Mashed, Mangled and Malled by a Princess
by Mia Elf
Summary: The eternal battle between good and evil continues... but which one is the evil one again? 17's quest for vengeance against the Saiyan Princess now involves the other members of her family, and now a new force is working behind the scenes.
1. Mashed, Mangled, and Mall'ed

Author Notes: I WISH I owned DB/Z/GT! But I don't, I own nothing, nada, and the only thing I'm getting out of this is laughs. The blame for this goes to Vegeta's lil Princess. Yeah, you sis! This is alllllll your fault! And also to Nicholas Bledsoe, because it's his dedication to his fic that somehow resparked my interest in writing too. =^.^= 

This is one of three of a Trilogy type thingy. The next part will be written by Nicholas Bledsoe and the third by Vegetas lil Princess Of course, that will be a while, but still… check them out when they're done, and the other fic(s) by these two awesome writers!

Mashed, Mangled, and Mall(ed) by a Princess

"Remind me again why I'm here?" It was NOT a whine. After all, the formerly evil, bloodthirsty and egotistical Android 17 Did NOT whine, just like he did NOT make bets if he wasn't sure of the outcome.  
  
"Because you choose to like the wrong team?" Bright and perky as she eyed not a clothing store, but worse- a shoe store. Which meant BOXES, lots of them. Smiling sweetly, like a cat that was about to shred someone's favorite chair and would glorify in the horrified scream that came of it, she walked through the open double doors and into the aisles, leaving him to collapse on a bench outside.

And he had been so sure of himself that he had agreed to be the spawn-of-evil's bag carrier for the day, if his team lost. Which he had known it wouldn't. 

Unless of course, his opponents father happened to be an over protective psychopath, and all it had taken had been the words, 'boy, hitting on me, sooo scared daddy!' her violet eyes filled to the brim with -fake- tears, and the main quarterback had been out of the way, the alternate too afraid to throw the ball straight.

'Dear Dende,

I have a small complaint. It was my understanding that the purpose of life was to experience the good and the bad, and to become a better, morally strong person there of. It's come to my attention that as of late, there's been a strong lack of the good, and I would appreciate it if you would rectify that as soon as possible. What have I ever done to deserve this?!'

Signed, 17. 

  
Mentally stamped and sent wherever such thoughts go, he blinked at the sight of one green Nameck, dressed oddly in cargos and a red cap standing calmly against the side of a Suncoast.

"Besides the whole, trying to take over the world thing?" He demanded calmly as what looked like Mr. Popo in a Hawaiian shirt shuffled past, a couple of bags in one hand and a mocha frapachino in the other. "And would have succeeded if it hadn't been for Mirai Trunks?"  
  
He'd never taken the guardian of the earth as a mall crawler... Then again, how many times could someone wear the same robe before they wanted some change?

"Oh. Yeah. Kind of hoped you'd forgotten about that..."

Well. At least there was nothing more he could do to him for the day. He was already in hell as it was.  
  


"Oh Seventeeeeeeeen" He shuddered, looking at the double doors where the voice originated before turning hopeful eyes back towards Suncoast, the idea of becoming a monk under the guardian of the earth more appealing than spending another second in the superficial princess' evil clutches, only to find...

Dende gone. The smart bugger must have fled as soon as that seemingly sweet voice broke through the mall's halls. 

Stay here...

Run for it, sacrificing his pride and letting her know she'd won...

Stay here....

Ah, screw it. With a last, mournful look at the hard metal bench, he stepped carefully through the double doors and into what looked like it was in the running for the largest shoe store in the world- not that he'd know. Interweaving through halls, avoiding falling boxes and stilettos thin and sharp enough to cut through bone, all the while avoiding small children and their fazing stares of cuteness.

"Which one of these looks better?" She demanded, holding up what looked like two identical shoes.

"...They're *exactly* the *same*!" He snapped after a moment of disbelief, fighting to not just blow up the mall and run for his sanity, his last nerve currently being danced on by the saiyajin princess.  
  
"They're NOT exactly the same. Look! These have two thick straps going straight across and two square sparkly clippies and they're all black, and these have crossing strappies and one lil heart clippie, and look!" She held the shoe up to his face, "the heel is made to look like wood!" 

Had to prove the whole, there's nothing more he can do to me wrong, didn't he? Dende was a sadist. And normally, he would have utmost respect for that, but not when it was directed towards him!

'Dear Dende,

Forget I said anything. Life is completely fair! I love and enjoy every moment of it! Couldn't be happier, and there will be no need to intervene in the future!'

-17'

In a quick, unknowingly brilliant moment of logic, where he would have torn his hair out if he hadn't valued it more than most lives, he barked, "Just Get them BOTH!"

Of course it had been what she wanted to hear.

Of course when she turned around to put them back in their boxes, he bolted like a bat from hell, back into the safety of the crowd where he was suddenly glad he hadn't killed them all, for they were walls between himself and the monster in that shop.

As the gratitude dissolved rather quickly, 17 found himself in a mood to torment. He had just showed enough patience and restraint to last him 10 years, which is why he sneered at that little chibi-thing when it asked for its ball back.

The 80 percent of his conscience that remained malicious cheered as he crushed the purple and pink thing and chucked it over the second floor railing, calmly ignoring the wailing of the chibi-thing as it ran across the walkway.

Smirk back in place, he leaned next to the doors, arms crossed as he watched a television through the glass window of some electronics store. The Grinch seemed to be playing, even though Christmas was a few months away, and he entertained himself by humming along to the theme song.

You're a mean one, 17.

Yes. A (formerly) evil, cold hearted *******, he could overcome this. Which is why when she *Finally* glided (Yes glided, all witches/demons glided) out of the damned store, he walked with his head held high, and sent a death glare to anyone looking in their direction. That is, almost everyone; the other poor suckers dragged to the mall by their wives/girlfriends/blackmailers sometimes shared a knowing glance. He wasn't about to kill kindred spirits, those who would might revolt with him, at the moment. 

When this whole thing was over with, however... there were too many witnesses to his torment. That needed to be rectified. 

"I love my shoes!"  
  
"I noticed."  
  
"I LOVE my shoes. And I have really pretty hair." In fact, she paused to check her reflection in the window of a Funco, bringing out a lipstick container to re-apply the deep, almost violet purple.  
   
Ick. "Uh huh...." Remember not to make eye contact.

"And... Pooocky!" Voice rising an octave, she quickly chucked the two bags of shoes into his hands and hopped through the doors to the Asian food store, not asking or caring if he wanted to follow.

...He had a funny feeling it would be safer to just wait outside.

*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*

"And I couldn't believe how much I got that shirt for-"  
  


The exit was so close, so blessingly close! He could see the sunset through the glass doors (Had 8 hours really passed? 'Shopping trips start early and end late, and it doesn't count if you don't go to at *least* two malls!' -sensei Bra.) and could practically feel the freedom, so close and yet so far. He didn't think he could stand another hour of the walking, walking, all the while hearing her chit chat about something or other. (I missed my soap you know, but I taped it, so it's okay I guess... not that I, like, watch it *that* often. I'm only watching this week because Brian finds out that Sheryl is pregnant with Brent's baby, who is really Briant's twin sister!)  And there was something about being glomped by a teenage girl on a pocky high that made his last nerve fall over dead.

"I love my shoes. And those heels? 6 inch! 6! And-"  
  
Ten meters... ten meters and he could drop these in the car, go home, forget this ever happened until he broke down and paid some psychiatrist 30 bucks an hour to figure out his phobia of shopping centers...

"Not to mention I broke my all time shirt rec- Ohmygod!"  
  
She stopped so abruptly that he would have passed her, if not for the fact that she grabbed the end of his hair as a sort of leash.

"Oy! Hands off the hair!"

But she wasn't listening, even as she latched onto his arm and proceeded to drag him towards what looked suspiciously like a small store. With puppies in the window.

And if he strained his ears, he could have sworn he heard a song coming from inside: "How much is that doooogyy in the window? Arf Arf! The one with the waaaaaaggly tail? How much is that dooooooggy in the window? Arf Arf! I do hope that doggy's for sale!"

Almost anyone else might have thought, Oh my dear god! How cute!

He just thought, Oh my dear god! "I am NOT going in there!"  
  
"Why not?!"  
  


"I am not spending anymore of my time in this god forsaken place just so you can kill off small animals! Pick off a grandmother in a wheel chair in the parking lot after I'm gone or something! Besides, what are you going to do, drown them?!" But this fell on deaf ears, as she had already dragged him inside and ran to the puppy pen, catching the fluff balls and hugging them close.  
  
"You're more evil than I thought! You're not going to drown them; you're going to smother them!" 

Then the cooing started. Then the baby talk.  
  


He shuddered and calmly stepped back, almost wishing that she was murdering them. "I'll just... go over here now..." He stepped up his pace, talking in that calm tone one used on rabid animals when she started spouting the word, "Hi!" repeatedly.  
  


It wasn't until he was almost at the exit that he saw... IT. IT was sitting in his path, probably had escaped from its cage.

IT was furry. A big, fluffy ball of, well, *fluff*. It had black ears and a black-ish nose, which it twitched when it looked at him, the lil whiskers bobbing up and down. 

And it was cute. 17 shuddered, but rethought his options.

Bra= a girl. An evil girl with her own prospects of world domination, but still a girly girl. What did those types like? One could practically see the wheels of thought running through his head. It was stereotypical, but she did like 'cute-and-cuddly-and-ohhhhhhhh-so-fluffy!!' things.

"Come here." IT flattened its ears against its head and backed up, but he had it cornered in three seconds flat. After all, IT was a silly little puppy-thing, and he was an advancement of mankind that could move at the speed of light. Then why had it taken three seconds? Because he was lazy, and it had taken two seconds for him to process when he had stepped in the puppy's mess. Ick, by the way.

"I should have gone for a cat." He grumbled, and IT nipped at his fingers. "Now look mutt, I know this won't be... pleasant for you, and the bow is a bit diminishing on your masculinity," He gave the bright pink bow an extra tug to make sure he hadn't somehow loosened it. "But can you tolerate it for just a bit?" A small lick to the face, and he grumbled. Why was he talking to the dog again? He put it to the long day; the shopping had begun to sap his sanity. "I know it's not fun, but you're practically a brainless mutt as it is. In other words, you're the perfect pet for her!" He grinned at his plot, taking a moment to bask in its darkness and evil…ness, somehow missing it was actually sweet and something she'd appreciate. Ah, denial.

The clerk raised a brow at the puppy sporting the pink bow. "Hello. I would like to purchase IT."  
  
"The puppy, you mean?"

"Yes. And I mean, I have named it IT."

"Nice choice." Said person, whose nametag pinned him as 'Bret' smiled that fake smile that some shopkeepers have because all they're interested in, is selling their merchandise. "And if you want one that's had all its shots-"  
  
"I'd rather it was rabid." 17 muttered under his breath, but the shopkeeper heard him anyway, since evil-muttering is always overheard. Sometimes, Bret thought, it was deliberate; the 'evil' person wanted to be overheard, so the 'evil' plan could be foiled. It was all just a desperate cry for attention, and he nodded to himself as he thought it. After all, that 'evil' young man, Sig-something or other, had come in just last week for flea-shampoo and a new sparkly collar for that Chihuahua he sold him last month.

But the buyer had been staring at him while he invoked his inner monologue, and he realized the sale was slipping. "-You'll have to take it to the vet yourself!" The shopkeeper finished, cheerfully. Hey, if he wanted it for security, that was his business. "Would you like to purchase a *small* dog house to accompany it?"

17 paused and rethought his options. Her evil-ness might not be allowed to keep the thing in the house, and she would most likely rant and somehow blame *HIM* if it had to, 'sleep-outside-out-in-the-cold-without-a-roof-over-its-head!' And yes, she'd say it all in a chain.

So he just shrugged and didn't act like his sanity depended on this. "Whatever."

*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*

The mall had closed, and the lamps outside were the only real source of light nearby. Tap tap tap. It took Bra exactly 10 minutes to start losing her temper. 10 minutes, 250 taps, two boxes of pocky and a stick of un-sweetened gum.

Oooh, he was one dead Android. She paused to admire her nails as she swore to kill him three times over is he lost anything she'd gone to the trouble of searching out. Shopping was an *art*, everything was carefully sought and hand picked! And if anything had happened to her shoes~! She wouldn't be held responsible for her actions!

A happy couple took one look at the fuming girl and did a 180. It was like a bright neon sign had been lit above her: do not come near the Saiyajin.  
  
Or maybe that was the purple aura? Hard to tell, nowadays.

"17!" Bra snapped to thin air, hands on her fists, "If you're not here in 10 seconds, I am going to pick up your car and throw it into the fountain!" She knew he wouldn't hear it, but the act would help her temper settle down. 

That is, until she heard the tsk'ing sound. So sure of himself, standing behind her, sitting casually on the edge of the fountain she'd threatened to throw his car in… He was the epiphany of smug, practically asking to be chucked into the cold water. She turned slowly, seeing with relief the bags that rested on the ledge, until she noticed, with wide eyes, that her shoes. Had. Fallen. In. Her brand new shoes. The ones she'd gotten on discount. That she hadn't even had the chance to show off yet! She wanted to scream when they fell deeper in, and she reached out as if they would somehow fly into her safe hands. 

He chuckled. Features forming into a scowl that would have made her daddy proud, she glared at 17, trying to prove that looks really *could* kill, and if they didn't, she would!

"So ungrateful." He shook his head at her and grinned, more of a casual look; not a leer or a smirk, for once. "Maybe I should just hang onto this and give it to my niece?"

Before she could even snap a curse, a bundle of fluff was thrown rather haphazardly into her arms. 

Blink. She found herself staring into a pair of chocolate brown eyes, framed in a fluffy face and felt her anger at the shoes melt into oblivion.   
  
"Puppy…" She murmured, a small smile lighting her face. She sat on the edge, staring off into space and he wondered if he'd done something wrong. She'd been shrieking all over the ones in the pet shop, why not this one? Though it certainly was a nice change, and he wasn't complaining. It wasn't *that* bad sitting with her when she wasn't barking out orders or throwing things at him.  
  
"Let's see……" She murmured to herself as she absently scratched behind its ears, loosening the bow. "I've already got a Kitty Kenshin….. Ah! You can be Sesshoumaru!" She cooed at the puppy, and pulled the bow off completely.

He abruptly lost all respect for the woman, and felt a pang for any dog that would have to go by such a stupid name. "What?! It's already got a name!"

"What?" 

"IT!"

"…It what?"

"That's its name!" He snapped, before he found himself backhanded into the fountain. 

"What kind of a person names a poor little dog IT?!" Bra demanded, staring down at him from her vantage point on the edge. He glared at her, but noticed the bright lights of a car speeding ever closer; it was one of her friends, or one of her parents, either way, he didn't like the idea of being killed for splashing back.

Besides, he had more dignity than that. So he 'accidentally' dripped water on the blouses she just bought when he got out, halfway expecting death threat or at least an indignant 'hey'! from the Saiyajin, but found her…

Talking with her older brother. "Shut it Trunksy, and help me put these in the car, or I'll let Sesshoumaru leave a mess in there!" She turned around, all smiles, still holding the puppy that would forever be doomed to bear the name of an Anime Character. 

It was scary how she could do that. He shuddered, though it was partly because it was 60 degrees and he had just been swimming. Trying to look anywhere else, she noticed the box with the new home for Sesshy, and felt a small pang of… was that guilt? "Um… Sorry." She looked down at Sesshoumaru and smiled again. "But thanks."

Trunks chucked the box in the backseat and snapped something that might have been 'It's time to go,' or maybe, 'get your ass in the car' through the window, and she smirked. 

  
Speaking loud enough for her brother to hear, "Thanks for a lovely day." She smiled brightly, leaning forward to give him a peck on his cheek and whisper "Let's do it again sometime?" Though that had probably been to freak out her brother.   
  
If it was, it had the wanted effect, as Trunks sent him a look that would have sent a regular date running. 

It just made 17 grin back at him. "Count on it." 

After all. He had revenge to plot.

*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*

Author Ending Notes: This whole fic is Vegetas lil Princess' fault, and she made several comments and suggestions that made this whole mess possible, and Nicholas Bledsoe suggested the puppy's name. ^^; Luv ya guys lots. Oh. And Pocky if you see the redvsblue part. =^_^=

Reviewwwww please? Feedback=good. I like feedback. It makes me happy, and that makes me write more! =^____^= Please this lil elf and review!


	2. The Android Menace

****

Nicholas Bledsoe's Author's Notes: OK! You guys can stop pestering me now! I wrote the next chapter, so let me get some sleeeeeeep. Ok, I know I asked for it, but I just thought I could have a little fun tormenting the Saiyan Princess. I didn't realize at the time what I was getting myself into, and much of what I had planned has changed. One, it is darker, and two, it is longer. This was originally going to be a single chapter, but because it was becoming so long, I divided it into three separate chapter. If you're the first to guess the theme I chose for the titles, you get a cookie (though it may take a while for you to get it, as I am still cleaning out my CD drive from the last time I sent one).

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ, DBGT, Yan Can Cook, etc. The only thing I own is my Piko-Piko Hammer. Its so cool and kawaii. I just have to show it to… HEY! Where's my hammer?! 

*A very happy elf name Mia (smiling like this: ^_^ ) skips away clutching the hammer*

Great, now I don't have anything… Well, at least I still have my health…

*VLP Appears and hits Nicholas over the head with a giant mallet* 

VLP: NO TORTURING THE PRINCESS!

MiaElf: O_O

Nick: Ouchies… please review…

*VLP hits Nicholas again to shut him up*

VLP: *Evil Smirk*

MiaElf: Um… Anywaaaays…. On with the fic.

**__**

The Android Menace… 

"Soon, Princess," he whispered. No, not a whisper, more of a quiet declaration of war. He walked along the outskirts of the massive complex, scanning the walls for his target. Soon he paused to look at a window on the building.

More precisely, looking at a single window, higher up on the wall. Pink light filtered through the diaphanous violet material of the draperies. 

"Yes," he smirked, as a petite silhouette appeared in the window, superimposing itself against the curtains. "Very, very soon."

He watched her window for several minutes, his ice blue eyes peering from beneath the brim of a dark gray fedora, his matching gray trench coat rippling in the cold breeze. Then, as silently as he had arrived, he turned and disappeared into the night.

* * *

"Dammit, Bra!" Trunks yelled, his voice echoing through the halls of Capsule Corp. "Keep that mangy mongrel out of my room"

"He's not a mongrel!" Bra yelled back from her room, "And YOU'RE the only one here with mange!" 

"AAAAAAHHH!" came the horrified (and in Bra's opinion, girlish) scream out of Trunks's room, after which a terrified Sesshoumaru bolted though the partially opened doorway of the Saiyan princess's bedroom and into her arms. Bra looked down into a pair of big sad brown eyes that just seemed to plead "pweeeease don't let the mean man yell at me anymore" while Sesshy's normally-pointy black ears flattened down sorrowfully. 

There was a loud thump as her door was slammed open (though most of the impact was absorbed by a small family of plushies that had taken up residence there) and Bra looked up to see a seething Trunks glaring at the half-husky pup, the remains of what had once been a shoe clutched in his hand.

"Look what your mutt did to my good Italian loafers!" he spat through clenched teeth. 

"Oh, puhleeease, you're throwing a hissy fit over a stupid shoe!?" Yes, she actually managed to say those words aloud, though it hurt her very much to do so. She would apologize to her own shoes later though, maybe take them all out to be polished. Yes, that would make it up to them. "And what are you complaining about? Its not like we're broke, you idiot. Just buy another pair."

Trunks blinked a couple of times, as though he hadn't realized that. _Moron… _Bra thought, as Trunks took a few moments to formulate his next argument. 

"That's not the point!" he shouted. "That dog shouldn't even be in here. It has a dog house, make it sleep outside!" 

Bra looked down at the fuzzy little black and gray husky-mix cradled in her arms, scratching him behind the ear as she cooed, "But he's just a wittle baby." The puppy started wagging its tail, its tongue lolling about happily. Despite how cute he looked when he was napping in his little igloo doghouse, she just couldn't bear the thought of her precious little puppy sleeping outside in the cold, especially when it was just starting to rain. 

Finally growing too nauseated by the scene in front of him, Trunks rolled his eyes and stormed back to his room, tossing the shoe over his shoulder. Bra gave him a sideways glance as she whispered to Sesshy, "Don't worry about mean old grumpy Trunksy. I'm sure he'll forget all about this…"

She leaned down and picked up the discarded shoe, smiling evilly, "…right after he buys you another pair of chew toys."

* * *

Smiling proudly behind the front desk in his crisp, coal black suit, the concierge of the grand hotel Il Palazzo greeted his newest guest. It was refreshing to see such a well mannered young gentleman. The black-haired youth, dressed in a clean gray traveling coat and carrying a black leather valise, wanted to surprise his ladylove by staying in town to visit her.

Ding.

Yeah, and Frieza spent his spare time feeding bread crumbs to 'wittle fwuffy baby duckies'…

Ding!Ding!Ding!

Darrel, the cheap hotel's night manager, day manager, owner, janitor and bookie who hid his receding hairline by keeping his remaining hair cropped to the same length as the stubble on his face, sat behind the counter (and a nice, fairly scratched up layer of bulletproof glass). He looked up from the tattered, filthy and worn out pages of his magazine at some guy who had apparently been standing there for a while dripping rain water on his nice filthy floor before getting tired of waiting and ringing the bell on the outside of the glass.

"Whatcha want, kid?" Darrel said out of one side of his mouth, keeping the cigarette he was smoking firmly gripped between his lips. 

"I want a room," he answered darkly, trying to keep from saying one of the many sarcastic comments his mind had immediately assembled. Shouldn't that have been an obvious answer? This was a hotel, wasn't it. Didn't people rent hotel rooms? Then again, it was possible that he was mistaken about the place. With all the garbage strategically positioned around the lobby, the building might be a wildlife preserve for cockroaches. 

Darrel grumbled as he set his magazine down, puffing smoke through his nostrils as he dragged himself to his feet. He took a key from the third row (not high enough off the ground to offer a good view, but high enough to be a miserable climb).

"Checkout's at ten," he said, wiping his hands on his dingy tank top before opening the guest register. "Name?"

"First of all," the person in the dripping gray trench coat and fedora said, pushing a stack of bills under the gap between the counter and the glass, "You don't need my name."

Finding himself distracted by the small pile of cash, Darrel simply slid the key to his guest as he set about counting the money.

Ding. "And second…"

Darrel looked up to see his guest, one hand resting on the bell, the other holding up the key. 

"…not this one," he said, pushing the key back under the glass. He pointed at the wall, to a single key hanging in the center of the highest row. 

"I'll take that room," he said, smirking as Darrel looked up to the key he would have to climb to get (just high enough to be a miserable climb).

Once he had the key, he grabbed his black canvas duffel, and headed for his new room on the sixth floor. Swinging the door to the sixty-sixth room open, he exposed it to light for the first time in months, his menacing shadow causing all kinds of vermin to scurry back to their holes.

"Ah," he said, "home sweet home." he dropped his duffel on the bed, and walked over to the window on the far wall. He opened the curtains just enough to peek through, smiling at the view. He had not picked this room to cause trouble for the lowly little manager.

Well, not entirely…

And it had been mere coincidence that his room number should happen to epitomize his adversary (at least in his mind).

He unzipped the bag, pulling out a blanket wrapped protectively around something and a tripod. He set the tripod in front of the window, which he opened just a crack. Then carefully unwrapping his package, checking first to be sure that it was loaded, he attached it to the tripod and aimed it out the window, putting his eye to the lens. 

No, the real reason he chose this room was for the view alone, straight across the city, and into the property of Capsule Corp. 

"Yes," he said triumphantly, having found the window he was looking for. He centered the form of his target, the sleeping Saiyan princess, in his scope

__

Yes, he though as he placed the crosshairs directly over her where heart lay hidden beneath lilac colored silk , _a perfect view_.

Squeezing slowly with his index finger, he fired off a solitary shot…

* * *

Trunks leaned back on the couch as he flipped through the channels mindlessly. Action movie, action movie, martial arts film, action movie. Bleh! Yeah, it was completely out of character for a Saiyan, but living in this family, life was pretty much an action movie 24-7. 

Click. Segal.

Click. Stalone.

Click. Cooking Show.

Click. Jackie Chan. 

Wait a minute… Click.

__

Hmm… this isn't so bad, he thought as the cook, some guy named Yan, quickly transformed a fish, head and all, into some kind of serving basket. Despite how disgusting the deep-fried head of the fish was, he was starting to get pretty hungry watching it, though he was too engrossed in the program to get up and get anything to eat. 

It wasn't like he watched cooking shows. Cooking shows were stupid. He just wanted a break from all the action movies and wrestling programs. Good Dende, he was sick of wrestling shows. His dad had developed a sick addiction to big time wrestling, since one of the wrestlers (a Bill Gold-something) reminded him of one of his former minions. It was a rare occasion that Trunks had control of the remote, between Vegeta's 50 premium action channels, and Bra's relentless viewing of the Fashion Channel.

It was strange that she had not come out of her room. Usually she appeared the moment he was just beginning to enjoy something. Apparently the universe had created her specifically to prevent him from experiencing happiness. He was almost starting to get worried that he hadn't seen her yet this morning.

"TRUUUUUUUNKS!" 

Almost.

"Trunks!" came the screeching voice of his brat sister. "What the HELL did you do with my cell phone?!"

Trunks ground his teeth in irritation as he looked over his shoulder. Even though she was three rooms away, he still couldn't hear the TV over her yelling. Looking back at the screen, he saw that Mr. Yan had just finished the recipe and was moving on. _Damn her! _he though. _I missed the best part!_

"Trunks! Are you even listening?!"

"What are you bitching about now?!" he finally yelled back. 

"What did you do to my phone?" she was still yelling from outside the room.

"I haven't touched your stupid phone!" Dammit, she always blamed him if something went wrong. He was beginning to wonder what he had done to get Dende so ticked off at him.

"Then why won't it stop playing that stupid chicken dance song?!" 

Trunks paled as he remembered what happened to Bra's cell phone. It technically wasn't his fault, but he was still going to catch the blame for it.

"It wasn't me!" he protested. Actually, it was his best friend. Goten had found Bra's cell phone and started messing around, listening to the ring tones. He had gone nuts when he found that stupid chicken dance. Of course he hadn't changed it back. What was it about best friends that they always managed to find ways to get you in trouble? (Yeah, even he thought that sounded hypocritical)

"I don't care! Just change it back to _Toxic_!" 

"No! Change it back yourself!"

"No, YOU change it back," she shouted insistently, then, as a torturous afterthought, "AND kiss Sesshy to apologize!" 

Trunks could almost hear her grinning evilly. "I am NOT kissing your stupid dog."

"You'll do it, or I'll blast you into another dimension." she said, finally appearing at the doorway.

"Ha! The only thing you could blast into another dimension is a mosquito," Trunks teased. "And I remember you couldn't do THAT either."

"Grrrr!" The angry princess launched a ki blast at the smiling Trunks, which he easily ducked. The blast careened past and hit a house plant on the other side of the room.

Trunks was busting up laughing when he saw the slightly toasted ficus plant. "That's the same thing that happened when you tried to blast that stupid mosquito!"

"Daaaaddyyyyyy!" Bra whined loudly.

Her voice could even be heard from the other side of the house, which is where the equally loud reply came from. "What's wrong, Princess?"

"Trunksie is being mean to me!" 

"Boy!" Vegeta yelled. "Leave your sister alone!" 

"Crap," Trunks muttered under his breath, leave it to the little brat to go whining to daddy when she didn't get her way. He jumped up from the couch, irritated "Forget this. I'll be outside."

Having forced Trunks to retreat, Bra smirked smugly, then stuck her tongue out at him. 

"Spoiled little self-centered Brat!" he shouted as he slammed the door shut behind him. Yes, 'Brat'. 'Brat' with a capital 'B'. Bra with a 'T', Brat taking the place of a propper noun. AAAAARGH! He punched a nearby tree, releasing some of his anger, along with a good amount of ki. 

He stared numbly at the hole he had managed to punch clean through the trunk of the tree. Running his fingers along the splintered edges of the cavity. Looking at the lines he could see inside, he estimated the tree to be at least 30 years old. _This tree is older than I am_, he thought, _and I just about blew it in two._

He chuckled lightly to himself. What was he getting so worked up over? His stupid little sister's whining? Was something so trivial worth this? He looked back inside the hole. It wasn't too bad, it went straight through the center, so there was only a little big of live wood that got hit. Maybe his mother or grandfather would have something to fix this, or maybe patch it up.

He was on his way to the lab when Sesshoumaru ran up to him, barking his little head off. Trunks looked down at him, half amused and half annoyed. "If Bra sent you out here, you can tell her I'm still not kissing you."

The puppy barked again, then whimpered and ran off around the building. Trunks narrowed his eyes suspiciously, then he saw the dog come back around the building, whining again. _What is his problem? _he thought.

He followed the noisy pup around the corner, watching from a distance as it ran up to a guy in a gray trench coat walking on the sidewalk along the edge of the property. The figure turned its head towards the yapping little fuzz ball, looking around nervously and trying to shoo it away. When he saw Trunks the guy started walking quickly in the opposite direction, heading around the corner. 

Trunks started jogging towards him as he disappeared out of sight. He jumped over the hedge and onto the sidewalk, but the guy was gone. Trunks ran over to the next corner, but there was nothing. Where the hell did he go? He couldn't have just disappeared… 

* * *

17 breathed a sigh of relief as he shut the door behind him. He took off the hat and coat, laying them on the bed. Everything had been going just fine, until It came along (he still couldn't bring himself to refer to It with that stupid name Bra had chosen). If that hadn't been bad enough, the dumb mutt had gone and fetched the Saiyan princess's idiot brother.

Lucky for him, Trunks hadn't looked up. He had jumped up into the top of one of the trees around Capsule Corp. and had waited there for a good minute and a half before the purple-haired fool had given up scratching his head and left. 

Still, he was surprised the dog hadn't followed the Saiyan, wagging its tail happily. That would have been ironic, all his painstaking work shot to hell by a little puppy. _Oh well_, he thought, _at least Bra had the good sense to get rid of that ridiculous bow._

And he had accomplished what he set out to do. He flipped out the small crank on the top of his SLR camera, rewinding it by hand. He had to admit it was a little archaic, but there was something rewarding about using good old-fashioned film. 

He took the roll of film into the bathroom, which as an android he had no use for, and had converted into a small darkroom. Turning off the lights and covering the tiny window, he turned on the small CD player on the counter. He flicked the top of the canister, popping out the tightly wound coil of film. He switched his sensors over to see by way of sonar, the sound of Linkin Park's _Crawling _guiding his hands as he wound the film onto the developing reel. 

* * *

Trunks grumbled to himself as he drove across town from work to pick Bra up from cheerleading practice, again. He was getting tired of chauffeuring her lazy butt around town whenever she needed to go somewhere. And why? Cause she was so afraid her precious little sports car would get a scratch that she never took it out of the garage. Actually, that wasn't entirely true. She did take it out of the garage, to wash it, wax it, have it tuned up (all of which was done by OTHER people. Bra would never do any work on her own. She was so afraid her fingernail polish would get a scratch.)

As he parked his car, he could see the local boys, some sitting in the bleachers, more standing next to them or other places where they could not be seen as easily, watching the varsity cheerleaders practice. Trunks chuckled to himself, remembering a time when he would have joined them. But he had grown out of that particular fixation a long time ago. 

And besides, he thought as he stepped out of the car and walked towards the field, my little sister is one of the cheerleaders they were staring at. He positioned himself just inside the gate, standing next to the chain link fence. He was still wearing his sunglasses and tried to look as big and silently menacing as he possibly could. 

Everyone at the school knew who Bra was, and who her brother was, and even though he maintained the stony façade, he was laughing on the inside. Several of the boys had visibly jumped when they saw him, and all of them were making damn sure they did not get caught looking in the Saiyan Princess's direction. One or two actually grabbed their backpacks and left, forcing Trunks to suppress a smirk. 

As the girls finished their practice and packed up their things, Trunks tried to see if he could pick up on what Bra and her friends were gossiping about this week. He was not eavesdropping on her conversation. He was just improving his own skills while simultaneously gathering intelligence from enemy communications (hey, all sibling relations are war). 

Snap.

That wasn't right. It wasn't really a single snap, but two snaps in quick succession, followed by a ratcheting noise. A camera? If it was, it was an old one. He looked around, but could not see anyone taking pictures. 

Snap. Snap. 

Again, and this time he was able to home in in the source. The mystery shutterbug was underneath the bleachers. One of the boys was sneaking pictures of the cheerleaders as they practiced. The little pervert better not have been taking any pictures of Bra, or there were going to be some serious consequences. He stalked over to the bleachers to wait for the miscreant in question, taking a quick peek underneath to see if he recognized who it was. 

To say he was disturbed would be an understatement. It was the same guy he had seen outside of Capsule Corp. only days before. The same hat and trench coat. He could not make out the guy's face, but he was certain it was the same guy. He was tempted to just rush in blasting, and ask questions later (if there was anything left), but decided to try and find out a little bit more first (then he could blast the guy).

Trunks pulled his sister aside as she was heading back to the locker room, somewhere not visible from the bleachers, and gave her the keys to his car. It went against his better judgment to do so, having been a passenger throughout Bra's driver training, and the delighted grin on her face only confirmed his fears that his car was going to be in serious jeopardy. 

He kept out of sight as Bra happily jumped into his car, gunning the engine and... HEY! Easy on the clutch, dangit! Oh, she would have to peel out. And he just got those tires, too. Resigning himself to the fact that he was going to have to take the car in for a major overhaul, he went back to keeping a lookout. He only had to wait a few moments, and the mystery man made his appearance.

* * *

Trunks had been following "Mr. Pervert" for about an hour and a half. Lucky for him, the guy had not followed Bra home, or else Trunks would have had to show the pervert how good his impression of his father really was. So far, they had been to a Camera Hut, where the guy had bought some film, then a Radio Shack (Where all deranged loners hang out. Hmm… that reminds me. I need to get some new tires for my little R/C car. ZipZaps are sooooooo cool!), and a Sam's Automotive Shed. 

He had been hoping the guy would stick to the shanty theme, and maybe stop buy a Pizza Hut next, but no such luck. _Note to self_, Trunks though, _next time I decide to follow some strange guy in a gray trench coat all around town, eat first. _

The guy finally arrived at a fairly filthy, but large hotel across the town. Keeping out of sight, Trunks watched him climb up the six flights of stairs, jogging up two steps at a time. He disappeared into room 666.

__

Oooookaaay… Trunks thought staring up at the number on the door, _That makes things just a bit creepier than I would like. _

Putting on his best 'question me and you'll find yourself in another dimension' attitude, Trunks marched into the lobby, right up to the front counter. He slammed his hands down on the counter to get the attention of the sleeping man behind the bullet proof glass. 

Darrel snorted loudly as he awoke, looking around groggily before glancing at Trunks. "Yeah? Whatcha want?" he asked, scratching himself through his new, clean tank top.

"I'm looking for information." 

"What do I look like?" Darrel said, searching the ground until he found his new, pristine (but still no less filthy) magazine. "A tour guide?" 

Trunks held back his opinion of the man's appearance for the moment. "I want to know who the guy staying in room 666 is."

"I dunno," Darrel answered, "Mr. Satan?" 

He laughed to himself. Even if he did know, he wouldn't say. The guy had been the best paying tenant there in a long time. Still, he'd have a little fun messing with this yuppie. 

"Look buddy," Trunks said, which got to look up. When he did he almost fell backwards in his attempt to dive underneath the counter. Trunks tosses the blazing yellow energy ball in his hand a few times before he continued, "I just what to know who the guy is."

"I…I don't know! He never gave me his name," Darrel whimpered. "It was just some kid."

"You better not be lying, or I WILL level this place."

"NO! I swear it's the truth!"

"Oh, and one more thing. I'll need a key to that room."

"Here. Take mine." Darrel said, his shaking hand appearing over the edge of the counter to hand the master key to Trunks. 

Trunks chuckled once he was outside. That had been a little too fun. He could almost see why his dad had spent so many years being an evil megalomaniac. He climbed up the stairs to the sixth floor, found a good secluded spot at the end of the hall, and waited. 

An hour later…

His stomach was really starting to grumble now, and Trunks was thinking of zipping down to that vending machine he had glimpsed in the lobby and cleaning it out. Just when he was about to give in to the urge, the door he was watching opened, and the man in gray stepped out, checking the doorknob to be certain it was locked. Satisfied, he turned, pulled his hat down further, and walked towards the stairs on the opposite side of the hall from Trunks. 

After he was out of sight, Trunks ran to the door and unlocked it, quickly shutting it behind him and locking it again. It was too dark for him to see. Trunks searched the wall until he found the light switch.

He gasped in shock. It was Bra's room. Not as in a replica of her room, but as in a kind of Shrine to his baby sister, every wall was covered with photos of Bra. Photos of her at school, cheerleading practice, raves and clubs, pictures taken outside of Capsule Corp. and… Pics of her sleeping in her bedroom! Oh, now he was ticked. Trunks kicked over the tripod with its telescopic lens, staring angrily out the window at the view of their house. 

He continued to search around the room, finding the makeshift darkroom, more photos and blueprints of Capsule Corp. and its buildings, and a diary. Flipping through the diary, he found mostly numbers and technical jargon, measurements of buildings and rooms (down to the millimeter), and timetables. One was a schedule for Friday, tomorrow. It listed everyone's plans for the evening, his Mother and Father's schedules, Bra's, and even his own. Just after sundown, there was a section of time marked off when everyone was supposed to be out of the house. 

Well, he would just have to disappoint his date that evening, as well as Mr. Stalker-Pervert.

* * *

Tonight was the night. 17 was going to make his move . He had spent weeks plotting out every detail, learning the layout of the Princess's room, learning when she would be out so he could make the arrangements for when she got back. He had learned that Bra's mother dragged Vegeta to dinner with Goku and Chichi every Friday, and Bra herself would be out clubbing till late, which gave him plenty of time to prepare. He had the entire wonderful evening planned out. He opened his duffel bag, shoving in a few final items. 

__

Yes Princess, he thought, chuckling evilly, _ tonight will be a night to remember._

He could have traversed the distance in moments, but he did not want to give himself away. So he took the cunning course and kept his energy levels low. There were a great number of traveling methods open to him. 

Of course, had he thought about it a little longer, he might have decided against using public transportation. He was seriously considering blasting the bus into oblivion. 

First off, he was seated next to an rather large and rather tired businessman who kept invading his personal space as he fell asleep and leaned against the irritable android. Then there was the little old lady in front of him, and her friend the burly, leather-clad biker, who both spoke quite loudly exchanging recipes for crêpes suzette. 

Then there were the annoying chibi-things seated behind him (correction, SHOULD have been seated behind him, as they insisted on climbing on the back of his own seat). When the pigtailed little girl's upside-down head started staring at him over the top of the seat, he just closed his eyes and tried to ignore her for the remainder of the bus trip, and seriously working to not blast the two little brats.

Must not be evil. Don't want to have bad karma. Must not be evil. Don't want to piss Dende off…

Of course, what he was going to do to the Saiyan princess could very well be considered as evil, though not from his point of view. It was just exacting justice for what she had put him through. Though Dende might not see it that way…

After weighing the two sides of the argument in his head, having his karma shot all to hell, or getting his revenge on the spoiled purple princess, 17 composed a short but meaningful letter in his mind.

'Dear Dende,

Here's what I think of karma: XP

-Android 17'

Oh well, even if his karma was shot for the next five centuries or so, it was worth it. _And besides_, he thought as he checked to be sure his digital camcorder was loaded and fully charged, _I'll have the whole thing on video to help remember the occasion. _

Of course he didn't really need the camera. With his electronic brain he could store far more information than the puny handheld device ever could, but maybe he would post the whole thing on the internet later. He chuckled to himself at that thought. 

With that thought as his motivation, he was able to make it through the rest of the bus ride without killing anyone, and was actually smiling quite happily. 

He walked a few blocks after getting off the bus, finally ducking into an alley not far from Capsule Corp. He took off his coat, revealing black military style clothes, he pulled a black hood from one of the pockets on his duffel, stuffing his coat into the now empty pouch. He threw the duffel over his shoulder, tightening the strap so the bag wouldn't jostle around. 

Satisfied that everything was ready, he set off. He ran don the street, keeping to the shadows. though he was moving slowly compared to his top speed, he was still moving much faster than a normal person could, and went unseen. In no time he stood before the curving walls of Capsule Corp, standing beneath the windows with the purple drapes. 

He couldn't risk flying up to the windows. The energy required to do that might give away his presence. But the servos and hydraulics in his legs were more than powerful enough. He gauged the distance perfectly, landing on the thin ledge without a sound. One hand firmly gripping the wall, he pressed his other hand against the glass lifting the window pane up and off its tracks. In one swift, smooth motion, he grabbed the panel before it could fall and hit the floor. 

He stepped through the window, smirking proudly beneath the hood, and set the metal-framed glass against the wall. Taking off the duffel bag and setting it on the floor, he thought about how easy it had been to break into the princess's room. Not that he was complaining, mind you, but he was a little disappointed that the whole thing wasn't more of a challenge.

Snap.Snap.  
  
17 spun towards the sound of snapping fingers, turning just in time to catch a blast in the chest from pointblank range. He was thrown backwards into the wall (which held, thanks to the special reinforcement Bulma had added when she was pregnant with Bra for the anticipated Saiyan sibling rivalries).   


"Look, punk," Trunks said as he stepped out of the shadows in the corner of the room, a touch of Vegeta's menace in his voice, "I don't know who the hell you think you are, but no one stalks my baby sister, got it!"

Crap, he didn't anticipate the spoiled rich boy butting his nose into this, and he sure as hell didn't expect him to go all 'overprotective big brother' on him. Well, it didn't matter now. There was no way he could pull this off tonight, so the only thing he could do was get his bag and get the hell out of there. Maybe he would get another chance to get to Bra later.

In a flash of movement he grabbed his bag and dashed for the open window. Trunks saw this and was surprised. That blast should have kept a normal human down for a few hours, but it was no big deal. Though he was surprised by the guy's speed, he was unimpressed. He had seen faster, though it was obvious this wasn't just some ordinary perverted creep from Bra's school. He simply stepped in front of the window and blocked his escape, waiting with a smirk for the intruder to collide with an immovable wall of Saiyan.

He was shocked when the collision actually knocked him over. _This guy is heavier than he looks!_

Even as he feel, Trunks grabbed the intruder's head, ripping his mask off and sending him into a backwards somersault out of the window. His momentum carried 17 forward, and he landed face first on the ground, plowing into it until he slammed headfirst into a tree.

Even though he was an android, that hurt. What the hell was Dr. Gero thinking when he installed pain receptors anyways? He pulled his head out of the trunk, splinters of wood falling from his skull. As he sat up holding his head and waited for his processors to recover from the unexpected shock, he realized he was holding hair in his hands and not the black material of the mask.

Oh shit…

It didn't take too long for Trunks to recognize who his opponent was. There were only two people he knew with that face. The other had blonde hair, and she didn't piss him off like this guy did with his mere presence near his baby sister.

"YOU!" he shouted from the windowsill. He had been planning on just giving his sister's stalker a little scare, just a tiny energy blast, a few bruises, maybe a cracked rib or two. But all that restraint had gone out the window. A smirk that would have looked at home on his father graced Trunks's lips. "Oh this is gonna be sweet."

He fired a ki blast at the android, which 17 was barely able to dodge, the energy careening into the tree his head had been imbedded in only moments before. Trunks jumped out of the window floating in midair as he sent a rapid series of blasts at the fast moving android. 17 sprinted beneath Trunks and up the wall behind him, flipping over backwards and delivering a powerful kick to his head, knocking Trunks out of the air. 

Trunks shook off the blow as 17 landed, spinning around just as the android flipped back and kicked off the wall, flying forward at full speed to spear Trunks with his skull (note: do not try this at home unless you too have a titanium and polycarbonate spine, and even if you do, always wear a helmet). Trunks saw the move coming, but managed to intercept it, flipping 17 up and over his head, turning it into a high speed suplex.

Both fighters hit the ground hard, and though Trunks was a little less shaken from it than 17, he was too amazed that he had actually worked and could only think, _I can't believe all Dad's stupid wrestling shows were actually useful. And all this time I thought they were just a glorified male soap-opera… _

It took 17 slightly longer to recover, but he did not waste any time thinking about what had happened, heading straight for his duffel bag so he could grab it and escape. Even so, he did not pass up the opportunity to land a good punch upside Trunks's bewildered face as he prepared to bolt away. 

Though the blow knocked Trunks back to the ground, it did not daze him as 17 had hoped. In fact it made him madder, and Trunks retaliated by tackling 17's legs and pulling the android to the ground with him, causing the contents of the duffel to spill out over the ground.

As Trunks held the android pinned to the ground, he stared wide-eyed at the numerous wicked looking devices and mechanical objects that lay strewn on the grass._ Whoa_, he though as his gage slowly took in all of the items,_ this is waaaay creepier than I thought. I knew I didn't like this guy even before Bra started to hang out with him. I shoulda… SWEET HOLY DENDE! What the HELL was he gonna use THAT for?!?_

"I don't know what sick twisted games you had in mind, you sick pervert," Trunks spat through clenched teeth, "but I'm not gonna let you lay a hand on my sister!" 

17 just stared at him, as if regarding the validity of Trunks threat. Then, starting with a low chuckle, he stared at the half-Saiyan as though finding his threats amusing. Trunks was actually a little disturbed as Android 17 broke out in maniacal laughter.


	3. Attack of the Fluffy Things?

Nicholas Bledsoe's author's notes: Another long-awaited (well, long to get done at the very least) chapter of _Mashed Mangled and Mall(ed) by a Princess. _Here's my second chapter (of what has become four, thanks to my long-windedness). This story has also now been written in California, Nevada, Oregon, Idaho, and Montana. No one has yet guessed the theme I have chosen for naming my chapters (or if they have, they haven't acknowledged it). Hope you enjoy it, and please review. It makes us authors all very happy. Special thanks to all my pre-readers, and to Mia Elf and Vegeta's lil' Princess for prodding me along.

VLP: MMAM!

Nick: -- … Yes, I finally updated Mashed Mangled and Mall(ed)…

VLP: MMAM!

Nick: You can stop saying that now.

VLP: MMAM!

Nick: --; … Do you people see what I've had to put up with the last few months?

VLP: MMAM!

Nick: Stop that!

VLP: MMAM!

Nick: AAAAHHH! Stop it!

VLP: MMAM!

Nick (runs away, screaming): Make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!!!!

(Mia Elf appears, holding a tape recorder. She presses the switch and…)

VLP: MMAM!

Mia: Heehee! This is waaaay too much fun. And now…

****

Attack of the… Fluffy Things?

****

. . .

After about five minutes of nonstop laughter, Trunks was beginning to question Android 17's already debatable sanity. The android rolled on the ground, holding his sides, and Trunks could swear he saw tears of laughter streaming down his face.

"Oooookay… "

"Look, I don't know what you think is so funny," Trunks said, grabbing the android by the collar and shaking him.

"You… HAHAHAHA… you thought… hehe…" The android took a second to calm himself before continuing. "You thought I was going to do something perverted to Bra, and that's why you tried to blast me all the way to New Namek?"

"So, you're telling me you're not stalking my little sister?"

"Oh please, give me some credit," 17 said as he removed himself from the half-Saiyan's grasp. "I have much better taste than that."

"Then what the hell was that unholy shrine to the dark goddess of shopping?!" Trunks shouted, "I'm surprised there wasn't a gold statue, incense and the pictures of the time she cosplayed as Sumire from Sakura Wars."

"One, gold's too expensive. Two, the incense would set off the smoke alarms in the room. And Three…" He grinned evilly. "…I'm saving the Sumire pics to hand out at her school."

Judging by Trunks' expression, he didn't find the attempt at humor all that amusing, even though 17 was completely serious about handing out those cosplay pics. He had to wonder who had talked her into that one, because the pictures he had found were not that old.

He did recognized his niece, Marron, in some of the pictures with Bra, wearing a dark wig and dressed as Sakura, and guessed that she had something to do with it. It even looked as though they had recruited (or abducted) Goku's granddaughter, Pan, for their cosplay, who they had clothed as Iris and who looked none too happy to be wearing a dress.

"Look, this is just a stupid prank, okay. Nothing really evil." 17 shrugged his shoulders. "You might actually say I'm fighting evil here."

"So, nothing perverted?" Trunks questioned, still not believing the formerly (and quite possibly still) evil android.

"No, I just want to make her life a living hell," 17 waited for the spoiled, rich boy's reaction, unable to tell what the purple haired stooge's reaction was going to be, and ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. He might have been able to take on Trunks, but once the rest of the Z fighters…

"Can I help?" trunks asked, the idea of putting his bratty little sister through torment was just too tempting to resist.

"Please," 17 scoffed. "What would I need your help for?"

"If you're going to pull this off, you're gonna need what I've got up here," Trunks said, tapping his head.

"What? Half a bottle of mousse?"

Trunks growled at the Android. "Look, I can get you into the house a lot easier, and without leaving any evidence that you were ever here. And I'm sure you won't want to stop after one prank."

"What makes you think that this isn't all I have planned?"

"You're not the only one that's had to go shopping with Bra before," Trunks said grimly. "One prank just isn't nearly enough."

Ah! So there was more to this than the average sibling conflict. Trunks too had been to Hell and back, making an extended stop in Purgatory when the vicious little purple monster on the wing had chewed through the fuel lines. 17 smirked and extended his hand towards Trunks. "Partners?"

Trunks grinned evilly and shook the android's hand. "Partners!"

At a Pizza Hut across town, a certain Namek dressed in a green and black flame shirt shuddered and dropped the glass of water he had been calmly sipping only moments ago.

"Whats wrong?" Mr. Popo asked from across the booth.

"I sense a great disturbance in the force…" Dende said, the dread in his voice unmistakable.

"You know that that's a completely different universe, right?" Popo pointed out.

Dende shook his head to clear it and fixed Popo with an annoyed glower. "Just shut up and eat your pizza."

Popo shrugged and went back to consuming his garlic and tomato pizza as Dende went back to the counter to refill his water.

. . .

Bra moved silently along the outside of the Capsule Corp mansion, which was a feat in itself considering the shoes she was wearing were never meant to be stealthy. Finally making it to the garage, she silently slipped her key in the door, holding the other keys tightly so they wouldn't make any noise as she turned them.

She knew it was well past her curfew, but she hadn't meant to be out so late. She had just lost track of time. She tended to do that a lot though, especially when she went out for a late-night shopping spree, or dancing, or flirting with pretty guys with pretty hair. She had become fairly good at sneaking in undetected, though she dreaded the thought of opening the door one time and seeing her father glaring at her. If there was one thing that kept her in line, it was that.

Of course, she still managed to miss her curfew by more than an hour (again) , and she could only hope that she could slip into her room undetected. She really needed to learn how to fly… eventually. It would be so simple to just fly up to her room and sneak in the window, but it would take a lot of practice and she had so much else that she had to do this being her last year of high school.

Opening the door just a crack, she slipped her makeup compact inside, using the mirror to check to the left and right before slipping in herself. Thankfully, her parent's car was gone, meaning they were still out at dinner. Sighing with relief, she shut and locked the door behind her. She was already tired from dancing, and the covert operation she had been on for the last few minutes had completely exhausted her.

She made it to her room, grabbing her silk pajamas from her wardrobe before heading to the bathroom to wash off her makeup and brush her teeth. When she came out, she literally collapsed on the bed, pulling the comforter around her like a cocoon. She lay like that for about a minute before the air got too hot and stuffy and she was forced to rearrange the bed in a more typical manner.

Closing her eyes, she reveled in the comfort of the soft mattress and pillows. Her normal battle cry of 'fashion over comfort' did not apply here, where comfort and fashion went hand in hand. After a long night of partying, it was great to just relax in peace and quiet.

…skritch.skritch.skritch.

Bra sat up, unsure if she heard the noise or not. It had come from next to the wardrobe, a light scratching noise. In the darkness though, she couldn't see anything that could make the noise, the only thing over there was a few plushies. A couple of tiny purple tigers with silver wings she had won at a carnival (frightening the carnie nearly to death by shooting out the paper bull's-eye while he was still tacking it up), a little purple super-deformed mecha she had bought at that anime convention, and a giant pink bunny she had bought after Trunks had taunted her into buying it with his devil-on-the-shoulder routine ("You know you want to buy it. Just admit it. Get the bunny… Geeeet the bunnyyyyyyyyyyyy!) .

Still a little uneasy, Bra lay back down, pulling the comforter up to her nose. She listened to the empty room for a few moments before closing her eyes and relaxing again.

Skritch.skritch.skritch.

Bra jumped up on her mattress, readying a small ki blast (though pretty substantial for her, considering she never spent time practicing). The glow of the energy ball illuminated the room, casting long shadows around her. She glared back and forth, searching for her target. Spotting movement, she let the blast fly.

A very surprised and toasty moth learned why to fear the Saiyan Princess that evening, crashing to the floor below in a blaze of horrific glory.

Though she was surprised at what she had blasted, Bra showed no remorse. Though she disliked bugs in general, moths held a special place of disdain in her heart. They were a security threat, a danger to the most precious commodity in her room, clothes. Smirking evilly, Bra muttered, "Rest in peace, you wool-munching menace."

From atop the vanity mirror, the nimble mosquito saluted his slow-moving compatriot, as the moth joined the spirits of many a ficus plant in another dimension. Wisely, he decided to postpone his attack run for another night when the princess wasn't quite so jumpy.

Satisfied that she had annihilated the source of the noise, Bra settled back into her bed, smiling happily. She closed her eyes, and started to drift off.

Across the room, a pair of glowing crimson eyes opened and glared at the Saiyan Princess. Its mouth opened in a wide grin, revealing a set of VERY pointy teeth. Silently, it stood up, padding softly across the carpet.

Placing its paws on the edge of the bed and digging its claws into the material, it pulled itself up peering at the back of the girl's head. It growled softly and menacingly, too softly to be heard. Its crimson eyes glowed brighter for a moment.

Feeling the heat of the creature's gaze on the back of her neck, Bra opened her eyes. She gulped loudly and rolled over in her bed, but by the time she looked, there was nothing there.

In the darkness under her bed, the crimson eyes narrowed maliciously.

Bra looked around again, still seeing nothing, so she pulled up her covers. The covers slowly slipped back down, so she pulled them up again. This time the covers were yanked out of her grasp. Bra yelped. Grabbing one of her pillows like a weapon.

She leaned over the edge of the bed, peering into the darkness, feeling a little self-conscious. She hadn't been scared of monsters under her bed since she was seven. Well, at least now she could handle the problem herself instead of calling daddy to check for her.

With her eyes closed, she leaned over and swung the pillow back and forth wildly, jumping when it connected with something and that something growled. There was a skittering of paws on the floor as whatever it was ran from under the bed.

The door of her wardrobe clattered, whatever was inside making irritated noises. Bra gulped nervously, retrieving the pillow and hefting it over one shoulder. She padded silently over to the wardrobe, grabbing the handle and yanking it open.

A mass of claws and furred fury jumped out, causing Bra to scream and fall over backwards.

"Kenshin!" Bra yelled, more surprised than anything, as the little orange cat bolted for the bedroom door. She let out a relieved breath and turned around on her hands and knees…

Her nose bumping against another in the darkness, her eyes focused on two points of burning red right in front of her, a mouth with gleaming white, razor-sharp buckteeth opening in front of her in a snarling grin. Bra screamed, throwing herself backwards into the wardrobe and against the hanging clothes. She fired a panicked ki blast. managing to catch the demonic pink bunny squarely in the middle of its fuzzy chest, sending it flying over the top of her bed and across the room. She heard an annoyed snarl and the sound of skittering paws, as the bunny scurried off unseen into the darkness. Bra slowly stood up, her eyes darting left and right as she searched for the demonic plushie. She readied herself by powering up her own version of a 'Big Bang Attack' (or what Trunks referred to as her 'Bubblegum Pop Attack') . 

Come on, where are you?" Bra whispered, she swept her outstretched hand back and forth, using the glow to light up the room. The little monster had to be somewhere, she climbed up on her bed, which might prevent her from getting her feet clawed off. She peered over the sides, hoping to catch glimpse of a bunny with a gaping hole in its pink hide, smoldering stuffing leaking out on the floor.

Instead, she saw nothing. Nothing but the glow of ki energy on the floor and walls. she sneezed as some dust went in her nose. More dust landed on the tip of her nose, then chunks of plaster hitting her hair. She looked up. The bunny released the hold its claws had on the ceiling, flipping around in midair like a cat and dropping towards Bra with its claws extended. She screamed and rolled out of the way, the comforter becoming tangled around her feet. She landed on the floor with a thump. 

The bunny landed on the bed, turning towards her with its arms extended, Bra fired off her attack, the blazing ball of energy streaking towards the possessed plushie and flaring as it made contact.

When the light had faded the bunny stood there, grinning, the two red crystals imbedded in its paws glowing as they absorbed the last of the energy from the attack. It hopped off the bed, slowly stalking towards the Saiyan Princess. Bra grabbed the nearest weapon she could find and hurled it at the rabid rabbit.

The plush tiger bounced off the bunny's head. She grabbed another as she tried to skooch away, the comforter still wrapped around her feet. The purple dragon landed square in the middle of its face, momentarily blinding the bunny, and each subsequent strike further slowing the demonic doll. Normally a plushie barrage was a devastating attack, especially with the amount of ammunition in the Saiyan Princess's bedroom, but the bunny just kept coming.

Gathering the comforter protectively in front of herself as she backed into the corner of her room, Bra soon exhausted her supply of plushie projectiles. Bra closed her eyes and raised her ki level, the counterpart of the words simultaneously departing her mouth in a terrified shriek.

"DAAAAAAAAADYYYYYYY!!!!!"

****

. . .

Oh what he wouldn't give for an excuse to blast something…

Anything at all, even if it was just to tenderize a steak that was a bit too tough for a knife to cut without the assistance of vast quantities of destructive energy. No such luck. Among all the endless dishes of food there was nothing tough enough to excuse such a deliberate use of force. Chi-Chi must have been frightened that, with the way he ate, Kakarrot would choke and die on anything that couldn't be swallowed without chewing. Vegeta smirked briefly at that one blissful, malice-filled thought.

It was bad enough that he had to eat dinner at the same table as Kakarrot, but he had to do it every damned week, like clockwork, suffering though endless hours of mindless gibberish and annoying small-talk in Kakarrot's blasted (oh how he dreamed of doing the blasting himself…) house.

He glared across the table at the Chief of the Baka Clan himself, the buffoon stuffing his face between brief bouts of idiotic insight accompanied by showers of Chi-Chi's cuisine. Oh how sweet it would be to wipe that moronic smile off his face with a unexpected Gallic Gun attack. He wouldn't expect it. Just one powerful attack upside his stupid face and…

NO! He was a Saiyan. More than that, a Saiyan Prince! He would not sink to the level of some two-bit minion by attacking an unsuspecting enemy.

Besides, after he was done with Kakarrot, he'd have to face the women, and that was one battle he did NOT want to fight.

Bulma and Chi-chi were both laughing at something, and Goku was trying not to choke on his food as he tried to defend himself.

"Oh, that's funny," Bulma chuckled. "The same thing happened to Vegeta when he tried to get his license. Isn't that right dear?"

Vegeta grumbled in response, trying to ignore the insipid exchange.

"Of course there was probably less property damage with Goku…" Bulma added.

The vein on Vegeta's forehead started throbbing. "Drop it, woman."

She took a sip of her drink and added, "Then again, Goku wouldn't blast the car in front of him."

"Hey! No one cuts me off!" Vegeta shouted in his own defense. "That old woman had it coming!"

Chi-chi chuckled at Vegeta's tirade, finding the way he and Bulma argued quite cute. "Well Goku had to take the test a few times, and I think it took Piccolo a couple of tries before he got his. Its nothing to be ashamed of if you didn't get one on the first try."

Vegeta smirked. "Who says I didn't."

"What?! You mean they actually gave you a license?" Chi-chi yelled in disbelief. She turned on Goku. "They gave this maniac a license on his first try and you had to go back five times?!?!"

Goku laughed nervously and actually seemed to be breaking out in a sweat "Well, it's a lot harder than it looks. There's all those pedals and buttons and I can never tell if I'm in forward or reverse…"

Vegeta stabbed another piece of chicken with his fork, watching Goku's cowering with amusement. This almost made up for the rest of the evening, though he still felt an intense desire to blast something. It was good to know he had something else to hold over Kakarrot's head besides his superior table manners and royal bloodlines (the question of who was the strongest fighter was a moot point, as they had not had a real reason to battle one another in ages, and sparring was not an adequate gauge in such a contest).

"Don't be too hard on Goku, Chi-chi," Bulma said, pulling Goku's (metaphorical) tail out of the fire, "the only reason Vegeta got his license is the DMV thought it was safer to have him on the road, than it was to tell him 'no'."

Vegeta glared at her, and opened his mouth to protest when he froze. Bulma stared at him as he sat there, his expression turning to one of dread. "What? What is it? Is something wrong?"

"I feel it too," Goku said. "Someone's in trouble and they just raised their Ki level."

"Its Bra!" Vegeta yelled as he jumped up from the table and ran to the door.

"What?! Bra? But how do you know its her?"

"A father knows," he said looking back. Then with an explosive boom of energy he took off into the sky.

****

. . .

"What do you think? Should we stop now?"

"Nah," Trunks said as he watched the action through a pair of binoculars. The mechanically-enhanced bunny poke at the blanket Bra had encased herself in through a pair of , eliciting terrified squeals from the chewy filling inside. "She's fine."

"And I thought I was cold," 17 chuckled as Trunks tossed another piece of popcorn in his mouth. He kept on filming with one hand, reaching over and grabbing some popcorn and feeding it to Sesshoumaru with the other. The pup happily munched away, sitting calmly between the two partners-in-crime, wagging his tail happily when 17 scratched his head.

"Hehe. I wish I'd had enough time to install systems in ALL her dolls," 17 said as Bra kicked the bunny through the blanket. He had originally planned to mechanized an entire army of plushies, but cut his plans back to a single large doll to save time, though it allowed him to add the energy-absorbing nodes in its paws. Lucky thing too. With those energy attacks, Bra might have singed it.

"Well, looks like fun time's over," Trunks grumbled.

"What?" 17 took his attention away from the camera and looked up. He immediately spotted the incoming form of Vegeta, looking very much like a capeless, extremely-pissed Superman.

"Damn…" 17 muttered as Vegeta crashed through the window.

"Damn!" Trunks exclaimed as his father delivered a series of punches and kicks to the relentless, but still fairly stupid rabbit.

"DAMN!" they shouted in unison as Vegeta threw the plushie out the window, blasting it with a real 'Big Bang' attack and turning it into a crater. 17's home-made energy-absorption system might have been able to handle Bra's low-powered attacks, but Vegeta's power was simply too much for it to handle. When the smoke and dust had cleared, there was nothing but an empty hole in the ground and a smirking Saiyan Prince.

17 turned off the camera, just in time to avoid having to edit out a tender father and daughter moment later so he wouldn't be sick every time he watched the video. "Well, this won't do at all."

"What? What are you talking about?" Trunks said. "That was funny as hell until my dad showed up."

"Exactly my point," 17 said. "Vegeta has got to go."

17 smirked, as Trunks looked at the android as though he had gone insane (well… MORE insane…).

****

. . .

"What were you thinking?!" Bulma shouted at Vegeta the next morning.

"I was thinking that I really needed something to blast after the torture you put me through at Kakarrot's house, and since you won't let me blast him I thought I would blast the thing attacking my little Princess!"

"But did you HAVE to vaporize it COMPLETELY?!" She yelled.

"No, but I thought I would damage its pride by asking it to surrender. Besides, it's a Saiyan's duty to be thorough," he said smirking.

"This is serious, Vegeta!"

"I know it's serious, woman!" he shouted back before dropping his voice to a harsh whisper. "But can't we wait to discuss threats against Bra's life until she is out of earshot?"

Bulma followed Vegeta's gaze, catching a glimpse of Bra as she ducked behind the curtains in her room.

"Sorry," she said as she and Vegeta turned back towards the crater in their lawn. "It's just frustrating not being able to do anything. If there was something left of that thing I might've been able to find out where it came from."

"Sorry, but I was a little preoccupied with saving our daughter at the moment." Vegeta muttered.

"I know," Bulma said wrapping her arms around him and leaning her head against his, trying to keep from shaking. "I'm just... I'm worried about our little girl."

"Don't worry," Vegeta said, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "I have a few ideas of my own on where that thing came from. And I'll be damned if anyone hurts my little princess."

Bulma felt reassured hearing her husband say that. If there was one thing Vegeta stood for, it was his family. The crater in front of them was evidence of that. They stared into the scorched abyss for a long time before Vegeta broke the silence.

"Well, one thing's for certain…"

"Hmm?"

"The landscaper is gonna be pissed when he sees this."

****

. . .

17 appeared calm on the outside, but he was nervous as hell on the inside. Of course who wouldn't be. It wasn't every day you got called in to Capsule Corp. by the Saiyan Prince himself. And something told him Vegeta was not the kind of person who found practical jokes humorous.

He went over the events of last night in his mind, double checking to see if he had left any evidence that he had been there. He couldn't find any, besides one witness. But if Trunks knew what was good for him, he'd keep his mouth shut. Vegeta surely wouldn't find it amusing that his own son had helped the android to set things up.

No, he was safe. Bulma and Vegeta were probably covering every possible angle. He knocked on the door and Bulma answered.

"17. Thank you for coming so promptly," she said. "Please, come in."

I was right all along… 17 thought as he walked in to the room. Standing off to one side of the room was Trunks, his arms crossed and a defiant smirk on his face. _…he is an idiot._

"Please, sit down," Bulma said, gesturing to one of the couches.

"Thank you,"17 said, smiling politely. Sitting down across from the glaring Vegeta. "You went through some trouble to get my cell number from my sister, so I take it this isn't a social call."

"No, not exactly. You see…" She started sitting down next to Vegeta.

"My daughter was attacked last night." Vegeta snarled.

"What happened?" 17 asked, deciding it was best to sound seriously concerned but completely ignorant.

"Something attacked her in her room last night. A stuffed rabbit."

"A Rabbit?"

"We think it was an android," Trunks added, his voice sounding accusatory. "wouldn't be a long lost relative of yours by any chance?"

17 glared at the purple-haired fool, just enough to sell the idea that the two hated each others guts/circuits (not that it was too hard, just hard to do without the sarcastic grins). "Watch your mouth kid, or I'll relocate it somewhere where you can see it better."

"Why don't you try it you scrap-metal meatball!"

"Trunks! Sit down!" Bulma hissed. Trunks growled and sat in an armchair facing away from the two groups. Bulma sighed and explained. "It was one of Bra's stuffed animals which she has had for some time. She described two red crystals in its hands that absorbed her attacks in the same way the ones on Gero and Android 19 did."

Vegeta snorted disdainfully. "Wasn't nearly as tough as them. The puny thing exploded when I blasted it."

"Can I see the remains?" 17 asked, already knowing what Bulma's answer would be.

"No, it was completely destroyed."

"Hmm…" 17 thought for a moment. "Well, without seeing some of the circuitry, I couldn't be sure, but it sounds like one of Doctor Gero's prototypes for the energy-absorption system. One of the more primitive designs from the sound of it."

"What makes you so sure?" Trunks chimed in.

"Because if it was one of the final designs," 17 explained, "nothing short of Final Flash would have enough destructive energy to overload it. And I'm fairly certain it could stop even that."

"Do you know who could make something like that?" Bulma asked, polite enough not to accuse the android directly.

"Well, myself and my sister, obviously," 17 said. "And you and your father, since you both have seen Gero's designs. Aside from that, anyone with a soldering gun, the plans, and enough money to buy the materials could build a rudimentary android. But since Capsule Corp. has the only other copy of the plans, that narrows the list of suspects considerably."

Bulma blushed as she suddenly remembered something. "Actually, we've had a few incidents where the lab database has been hacked into, mostly by government and military agencies. We keep all the important plans in a secure vault, but some of the less-advanced plans may have been stored there."

Of course, 17 already knew that. He had hacked the database from a public library and had printed out a few copies of the plans to throw anyone off his trail and onto a false one.

"Still," 17 said, "The list of people who would want to hurt your family is pretty short, the ones that are still alive that is. Can you think of anyone that would have it out for Bra personally? Or maybe someone that thought it was all just a harmless pra…"

"That's it! I've had enough!" Trunks interrupted, turning to his mother and father. "You can't tell me you actually believe this cybernetic psychopath. He's probably the one behind it all! This whole thing practically has 'Android 17' written all over it! I say we blast him now and be done with it."

"Trunks. Please be quiet." Bulma said. "I don't believe 17 would ever want to hurt your sister."

"But…"

"Boy! Sit Down and shut up!" Vegeta yelled. Not that he necessarily disagreed with the boy. He suspected the android as well, but he was not going to argue with his wife in front of 17 and neither would his son.

"I can't believe you actually trust this con artist!" Trunks shouted in disbelief. "Why don't you just go ahead and ask him to be Bra's bodyguard while you're at it?!"

Bulma sat there for a moment after Trunks again took his seat. "Actually, that's not such a bad idea."

"What?!" Trunks, Vegeta and 17 (and had they been listening close enough, Bra in the next room) all shouted in unison.

"Yes," Bulma said, liking the idea the more she thought of it. "If there is another android attack, what better way to fight one than with another android. 17's power supply is virtually limitless, so he wouldn't be vulnerable to a direct attack. His sensors are probably the only way to sense another android, unless you've suddenly developed a new skill you haven't told us about. And if Bra is going to have a bodyguard with her all the time, she would probably object less to one that at least looked and acted her own age."

In the other room, her ear up against the vent as she stood on top of a leaning tower consisting of several books and two chairs, Bra whispered, "AS IF!"

"This is ridiculous," Vegeta said. "Bra doesn't need a bodyguard. She has me to protect her."

"You can't go everywhere with her Vegeta. Do you think Bra really wants her father hanging out with her at school? At cheerleading practice? When she goes on dates?"

The more Bra thought about it, the more she had to agree with her mother. As much as she loved her dad, no teenage girl wanted to be seen at school with her parents. And 17 wasn't exactly hard on the eyes. He'd probably make all the other girls green with jealousy.

"I still don't like it," Vegeta said.

"Neither do I," Trunks agreed.

"Well, tough!" Bulma closed her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I've made up my mind."

"Do I get any say in this at all?" 17 asked, wondering if the others had forgotten he was still there.

"Oh," Bulma exclaimed. "Of course, 17. But please consider it. Would you be willing to act as Bra's bodyguard until we get this whole thing sorted out?"

17 looked at the smiling woman. Then he looked at the two glaring Saiyans. Saying no might alienate Bulma from his side of the argument, and then there would be no one to keep Vegeta in check. Well, the only thing he had to lose was his sanity. Smirking, he answered, "Why not? It might be fun."

There was a loud crash and a high-pitched yelp from the next room, and everyone sat up and rushed over to see what it was. They found a dazed Bra lying on the ground underneath the vent, surrounded by books and the heel of one of her boots through a chair cushion. She groaned as she opened her eyes and looked up.

"Oh," she said waving timidly from her upside-down vantage point, "hi Daddy."

"Hi Princess."

****

. . .

While Bulma and Vegeta stayed behind to talk to Bra about the new arrangement, Trunks took 17 outside to give him a few 'pointers' about his new job.

"Well, that was fun," Trunks said while keeping up a angry mask so that anyone that saw them would think he was threatening the android, so long as they didn't hear them.

"What the hell is your problem?!" 17 shouted. Not exactly stealthy, but it would fit well in any conversation he would normally have with Trunks, so it didn't matter.

"What?!"

"Its not bad enough I had to go shopping with her once, now I'm forced to hang around her every day!"

"I didn't really expect Mom to go for it, but it actually works in our favor," Trunks said with a malicious smile.

"What are you talking about?" 17 said.

Trunks smirked. "You know what they say, android. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

17 thought about it for a moment.

"Besides," Trunks added, "the mutt needs to spend time with both its parents."

17 glared at the purple-haired fool for that last remark, but the yuppie had a point. Being Bra's bodyguard would make it much easier to work in secret. And it would give him a much better excuse if he were caught. But its still left one problem.

Vegeta.

Bra's father was by no means stupid, and would catch on sooner or later. And he was not likely to be merciful when he did. They would still need to find some way to get him out of the picture.

Killing the Saiyan Prince wasn't exactly a viable solution. Oh he could do it, of that he was fairly certain, though it would take a lot of effort on his part. But doing so would bring the rest of the Z-fighters crashing down on him like a rouge planetoid. Besides, killing just didn't have the lure it did so many years ago. Too often lately he'd thought of it as a cowardly solution (though that didn't make it any less entertaining to scare some hapless soul out of their wits by threatening their very existence with a well-placed energy blast).

But he had to find some way of getting Vegeta out of the way long enough for him to pull off what he had planned next.

"So, any ideas on how to keep my dad out of…"

The was a loud boom from the courtyard, and both 17 and Trunks turned towards it.

"What the hell was that?" Trunks shouted.

"I don't know, but whatever it is, its throwing off raw energy like mad." 17 checked his sensor readings again. "This isn't like any form of energy I've ever detected before."

Both flew over to investigate, finding Vegeta and Bulma already there. A spinning pinwheel of light pulsating in the center of the courtyard. With each flash of light, there was an crash like thunder, the energy vortex growing larger and larger until it was taller than any of the people present.

There was another flash, and the energy solidified into a spinning loop of light, the air between its edges warped like a scene viewed through rippling water.

"What is that thing?" Trunks asked. His eyes went wide as a very familiar form stepped through.

17 smirked evilly. "An opportunity."


	4. Revenge of the Shopper

Nicholas Bledsoe's Author's Notes: Heeeeeey kids! Its that time once again, where we join in the continuing adventures of everyone's favorite Princess and her android companion. (Author watches in horror as VLP blasts the guy in the back who yelled out, "Woohoo! Leia and Threepio!") O.O; Um… Ok.

Sorry this chapter took so long, but school, writers block (and maybe a few video games…) have all taken their toll. In addition, I had to split the story AGAIN! I decided to go ahead and split it into 6 chapters, but still managed to keep with the original title scheme. Hate that I'm doing this. It feels as though I'm hijacking Mia's story from her. I wish I could have done it in less chapters, but there were so many suggestions for ways to torment the Saiyan Princess. EEP!

(ducks a ki blast from VLP)

Anyways, as VLP is apparently tired of waiting, on with the show.

_"Revenge of the Shopper"_

. . .

Trunks blinked as he stepped through, having been momentarily blinded during the transition. He wasn't surprised to find himself in the courtyard of Capsule Corp, as that had been the location of the portal generator. He was not really surprised to see Vegeta and Bulma standing in front of him either. The portal had probably been difficult to miss.

For him it had been a several years since he had last seen his friends, and for them it would have been even longer. The last time he had been back, his double had been an infant. By now, they would have been about the same age.

His mo… Bulma had seemed a little anxious at first, unsure whether to regard him as her son or like an old friend. She apparently decided to treat him as another member of the family, almost knocking him off his feet as she flew into him and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.

Vegeta evidently chose to treat his second 'son' the way he treated everyone else: with irritated indifference.

Not that it really mattered. He was only going to be around long enough to grab Goku and go back. He didn't really feel like spending quality time with 'Dad'.

"Its good to see you again," Bulma said, releasing her death-grip on him and stood back to take in how her 'other son' had turned out. She blinked her eyes in surprise. "You're taller."

"What do you mean? I don't think I've grown since the last time I saw you guys."

"No. What I mean is, you're taller than our Trunks," Bulma said, trying to estimate the difference based on her own height. "It only a couple of centimeters, but you're definitely taller than him."

"Maybe I ate all my vegetables?" Mirai Trunks said with a laugh.

"So. What is it this time?" Vegeta suddenly interjected. "I mean, you didn't just come to visit, did you? You always bring some kind of bad news along with you."

Bulma looked at her husband then back to Trunks, eager to know why he was here herself.

"Well then?" Vegeta continued, his voice growing more impatient. "Tell us what 'great threat' from your timeline is coming for us this now," he smirked, "so I can go find it and blast it into subatomic particles."

Trunks ignored the arrogant Saiyan Prince, and turned back to Bulma. "I need to talk with you."

Bulma nodded and walked toward the mansion, Trunks following her.

"Hey! If there's something you want to say you can say it in front of me!" Vegeta yelled. "Get back here! I WILL NOT BE IGNORED!"

. . .

17 waited until a growling Vegeta had flown off angrily before creeping up closer to the mansion. He kneeled down next to a tree to minimize the chances of his being seen. He stared at the window intently.

"What's he doing here?" the other Trunks said coming up behind him.

17 tried to ignore him and concentrate on the task at hand

"What's going on?" Trunks asked.

"Shhhhh!" 17 hissed. "Keep your voice down."

"What? You can actually hear what they're saying?" Trunks whispered.

"No, I can see what their saying."

"Lip reading?"

"Bouncing a laser off of the window to measure the vibration and translating that into sound," 17 explained, Trunks just now noticing that his eyes glowing slightly, "and your big mouth is interfering with the vibrations."

Trunks opened his mouth to comment, but shut his trap. He wanted to know what his mom and double were discussing as well.

17 concentrated on the window, and the sounds that caused it to vibrate. "Sounds like your twin has gotten himself a bit of trouble back in his own dimension. He's come here to get Goku."

"No wonders he didn't want to talk in front of Dad." Trunks whispered.

"Doesn't sound like he's too worried about it," 17 said. "The stress level in his voice isn't very high."

"Well, too bad he's here to get Goku. It'd be great if he'd just drag Dad back with him. But what are the chances of that?"

"You never know until you ask." 17 said.

"Yeah," Trunks laughed, "You go and do that. And while your at it, why don't you tell Bra her hair is…

Trunks looked up, and noticed the android was gone. "17? Where did you…"

He looked back towards the mansion, and it finally dawned on him what the android was planning.

"Oh shit…"

. . .

Bulma had gone to call Goku for the dimension-jumping visitor, leaving Trunks to lounge on the couch. He scratched the back of his head, getting annoyed at the rubber band that held his hair back, while pulling it every time he moved his head. He finally got fed up and ripped the band off. Some of his purple hair fell down in front of his face.

He'd let his hair grow out while he had trained with Vegeta, but he'd cut it after the battle with Cell. He'd kept it cut for a while, but he'd gotten lozy about it and let it grow. There had been a couple of times he's thought of cutting it, but it wasn't something he'd really worried about.

"Well well well. Heard you were back in town. Thought I'd drop by and say 'hi'."

Trunks froze. He knew that voice. That smug, arrogantly calm voice. He turned, his face twisted in fury. "YOU!"

17 smirked. "Hi."

Trunks charged with a war cry, diving over the back of the couch, his fist ready to plant itself in the android's face. He barely managed to stop himself as a lavender and tan blur suddenly interjected itself between the two of them. He found himself staring at an open palm, and his own familiar face on the opposite side of that hand.

"Now just hold on a second here!" The Trunks with the shorter haircut and better sense of style said as he kept his double and the android separated. "I don't need the two of you at each other's throats."

"Me?" 17 said innocently. "All I did was say 'hi'. This lunatic is the one that attacked me."

Trunks (non-Mirai) glared at the android to shut him up before he could alienate his double any more. "Would you just get lost for a little while. I don't think having you around will be helpful in convincing him to help us."

17 shrugged his shoulders and took off into the air. Trunks let out a relieved sigh and turned back towards his long-haired double.

The other Trunks was staring him, and it was starting to get annoying. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing," Mirai replied. "Just wondering where Bulma and Vegeta went wrong with you, and why that android isn't a paperweight on Vegeta's desk."

"Cause Dad doesn't have a desk," Trunks said, "and even if he did, the only paper on it would be the _Enquirer_."

"So what is he doing here?" Mirai Trunks asked.

"Would you believe that Mom hired him?"

Mirai blinked a couple of times, then rubbed his head which hurt from trying to understand Bulma's logic. "I don't even want to know… So what is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Its about what you're planning to do," Trunks said, putting what he assumed 17's plan was into action. It wasn't a bad idea, if he could convince his double to go along with it.

"Look, we know you're taking Goku with you, and that's fine by us, but could you do us a big favor?

"What?" Trunks asked.

"Could you take Dad with you as well?"

Mirai stared blankly at him for a minute. "You're joking, right?"

"No. I'm dead serious."

"Why would I want to drag a bad-tempered Saiyan Prince back to an already devastated world?"

"It would really help me and 17 out?" Trunks said.

Mirai crossed his arms in front of his chest and waited for a better reason.

"Fine," Trunks said. "If you really want to know, 17 and I are plotting a big practical joke against my little sister…

"Bra?"

"So you've heard about her already?"

"Your mom showed me a few pictures.

"Anyways, were planning this big prank, and we can't really pull it off with Dad lurking around all day. So, will you help us."

Mirai thought about it for a second. "No thanks."

"What?"

"I said I'm not doing it."

"Why not?" Trunks asked, coming off a little more whiny than he would have liked.

"Three reasons," Mirai said counting them off on his fingers. "One, I came here to get Goku, not Vegeta. Second, the portal generator only has enough energy to send two people at a time. And three, I don't really want to help you do anything to Bra."

"Why the hell would you care about what happened to her?"

"I don't know," Mirai said reflectively. "I guess its cause I always wanted a little sister."

Trunks stared at his dimensional counterpart, then, when he realized he was serious, Trunks snorted as he suppressed the urge to laugh.

"What?" Mirai asked as the other Trunks started snickering. "I don't see what's so funny. I think it would be great to have a little sister like Bra."

Not able to hold it in any longer, Trunks busted up laughing, laughing until he ran out of oxygen, laughing so hard that his lungs began to hurt.

Trunks took a wheezing breath, stopped laughing, looked at his double, started laughing again. After a few minutes he began to calm down. "You're joking, right? You mean you'd actually WANT a brat like Bra in your family?"

"Why? What so bad about her?"

"Lets just say she's a lot like Dad in some respects."

"Oh come on, she can't be that terrible," Mirai scoffed.

"Terrible enough that I'm willing to team up with Android 17," Trunks stated flatly.

"Well, whatever grudge you've got against her, it doesn't concern me," Mirai said. "I don't have any reason to dislike her."

The arrival of the fiend in question was heralded by bubby, overly-cheery tunes floating through the air. "I don't want no scrub. A scrub is a guy that can't get no love from m…"

The Princess stopped singing and froze when she came around the corner and saw the two Trunkses. She rolled her eyes and took the headphones of her red, glittery mp3 player out of her ears, before smirking and in her best sarcastic voice saying, "Great. Just what I always wanted. TWO brothers."

Her brother just glared at her, as any brother would, while his less knowledgeable double smiled cheerfully. "You must be Bra."

The Princess crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Yeah. And you would be the less-dorky version of my idiot brother?"

"I guess you could say that…"

"So what should we call you?" she said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "We don't want you two to get confused when we call one of you…"

Trunks rolled his eyes, while his Mirai counterpart didn't yet know what to make of his pseudo-sister.

"I've got it! Tweedle-Dum…" she said, pointing at the Trunks from the parallel timeline, "and Tweedle-Dumber," she finished, pointing at her brother.

Trunks growled at her, while 'Tweedle-Dum' chuckled at her joke. Trunks glared at his laughing counterpart, who said "Hey, it was a funny joke."

"You should have been 'Tweedle-Dumber…" Trunks grumbled, then smirked as his little sister circled the doppelganger like a predator or vulture, assessing him, checking for weaknesses.

"Hmm…" She looked him up and down finally focusing on the hair.

"What? What is it?" The other trunks asked nervously.

Bra shook her head disappointedly. "Split ends. It a shame too. Another waste of royal Saiyan genes. I thought maybe SOMEONE in this family would have the sense to take care of their appearance, but I guess its impossible for any of you to live up to my standards."

She ended her speech by flipping her hair over one shoulder.

Trunks snickered as his double looked at his hair and said, "I don't see what you're talking about?"

Bra rolled her eyes. She stepped closer to the double and, without warning, yanked several hairs out of his head.

"YEOWCH!" Mirai Trunks shrieked, grabbing the stinging section of scalp. "What was THAT for?!"

Ignoring his whining, Bra proceeded to hold up the purloined hairs for his inspection and lectured him as though he were a unruly toddler. "See? These are 'split ends'. These are BAD. Use a leave-in conditioner."

She looked at the hairs a little closer before continuing, "But I'm not sure if it will do you any good at this point…"

"I don't see what the big deal is," Mirai said, still rubbing the tender spot on his head. "Its just hair."

Trunks winced, covering his ears in preparation for the incoming storm.

"Just hair… Just hair?" Bra was actually shaking, her fists clenched as tightly as she could without breaking a nail or piercing her skin.

Mirai gulped nervously at the angry energy radiating off the girl, seriously beginning to wonder if she was about to go Super Saiyan.

"Just HAIR?!?!?!?!?!" Bra shouted, the shockwave of her bellow shaking the ground beneath them as a dim violet aura enveloped her. She grabbed a handful of Mirai's hair, pulling him down to her level so she could be certain she had his full attention.

"Listen carefully. Hair is the most important accessory a person can have. It embodies who you are. By not taking care of it, you're sending a message about yourself to everyone who sees it. And you're insulting it by not helping it live up to its full potential!" She let go of his hair, poking at it a few times "Why even grow it out this long if you're not going to take care of it?!"

"Wait. I got it," she said teasingly. "This is because your mom never had any girls, isn't it? She has to fill the void somehow, I guess. What a good little daughter you must be…"

She laughed, and Mirai looked at his double, smirking through the pain. "She sure is a feisty little squirt..."

"That would be a nice way of putting it," Trunks said. "I just say she's a spoiled little b…"

He was silenced by a piercing cry of, "DAAAAAADDY!" as Bra stormed out of the room.

"See."

"Vegeta's little princess, huh?"

Bra, hearing the remark, turned, walked back up to Mirai, glared right into his eyes, then drove her heel into his foot and left.

Trunks could only snicker as Mirai hopped up and down, clutching the injured toes.

"And what was it you and 17 wanted again?" Mirai hissed through gritted teeth.

Trunks smirked as yet another of Bra's victims was turned to his side of the conflict.

. . .

17 dropped in next to Trunks as the half-Saiyan watched his Mirai double try and convince the "Prince of all Saiyans" to go along with him back to his alternate timeline. It was much more convenient to just fly in to Capsule Corp. rather than sneak in on foot or by bus or cab. "So, how are things going with our long-haired friend?"

"Pretty good," Trunks said. "He actually got Dad to listen to him, which is a miracle in itself."

17 looked over at the two Saiyan Warriors. He chuckled as he listened in on what they were saying.

"What's so funny?" Trunks asked.

"Nothing," 17 said. "Just that your double sounds really whiny when he's begging."

"Don't you mean 'girly'?" Trunks asked, still curious at some level how he and his double really were

"And then there's Vegeta," 17 continued as the Saiyan Prince, his arms crossed defiantly across his chest, spoke back to Mirai Trunks. As he did, 17 mimicked him speaking to the other Trunks. "You are a very difficult woman."

Vegeta waved a dismissing hand as Mirai tried to argue his point, and 17 continued his mockery. "Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera and so forth."

"Funny," Trunks said, "but I always thought Krillin looked more like Yul Brynnar."

"Nah. Too short. And not since he started growing that weird patch of hair," 17 replied, not surprised the yuppie got the _King and I _reference. "If it wasn't for that creepy eye, I'd say Tien."

"Well, whatever he's saying, its gonna take a lot of convincing to get Dad to go with him."

"Not to mention some groveling and begging," 17 added.

"Oh, how about this?" Trunks said as his double started imploring Vegeta, using his hands to gesture emphatically. "This is our most desperate hour…"

17 finished the line for him "…help me Obi-Wan Vegeta. You're our only hope."

The two of them laughed. Once it became apparent that Vegeta was going to go along with it, 17 and trunks headed back to the mansion. "Well, now that stage one is out of the way, its time to move on to stage two."

Stage two consisted of a little computer work, which wasn't difficult, but Stage Three… 17 was not looking forward to stage three. But, sacrifices would have to be made…

He just wished it wasn't him that had to make them.

. . .

"I can't believe you're doing this to me again."

"Oh don't be so mopey," she said. "If you didn't want to go shopping with me again, you shouldn't have agreed to be my bodyguard. I bet this is exactly what you had planned."

17 was lucky he wasn't human, or he would have paled at her comment. "W…what?!"

"Admit it, you actually enjoyed shopping and you just did this so you could have the privilege of accompanying me," Bra said with a smile. She had planned this trip anyways, but after Daddy had gone back with 'Tweedle-dum' to the other timeline, she had really needed something to kill time. And if shopping wasn't fun enough, than making 17 squirm was.

"HA! You must be crazy."

"Aww…" she said pouting. "Play nice and we may just stop by Radio Shack," she said in a tone one might use when tempting a little child with ice-cream.

"Hey! Just because I'm an android, don't think I'm automatically a techno-geek." He hated android stereotypes, even if he did have a Radio Shack card in his wallet that was almost completely punched. Two more purchases and he would have enough free batteries to run his stereo for the next decade.

"Ok, ok! Don't blow a microchip." Bra huffed, stepping down harder on the accelerator, apparently tired of tormenting him and wanting to get to the mall as quickly as possible. She had, of course, insisted on driving him there, if only to show off the new '_Saiyan Princess' _decal in her back window (complete with a tiny crown or tiara, or whatever), even though he could fly there faster than the car could drive.

But not much faster… he thought, digging his fingers into the seat.

"Hey watch the leather!" Bra yelled. "I just had the interior detailed and… oh crap." Her voice suddenly trailed off as she looked in her rearview mirror

17 looked into the rearview mirror on his side of the car, at the flashing red and blue lights behind resting atop the black and white police cruiser behind them. Bra cursed quietly under her breath as she slowed down and pulled to the side of the road.

The android chuckled lightly to himself as the officer walked up, while Bra tried to calm down and not hyperventilate. The officer tapped on the glass, which Bra rolled down, after a few moments of fumbling with the switches.

"License and registration please." the cop demanded flatly, his voice making Bra feel uneasy, and the way the light flared off his sunglasses wasn't helping to ease the intimidating presence.

"Y…yes sir, officer." She said nervously. She pulled her wallet out of her purse, taking her license out and handing it to him. 17 tried to keep from laughing out loud as she leaned across the center console awkwardly to get her registration out of the glove box. It was wonderful seeing the great Saiyan Princess so unnerved by a petty little human in a uniform.

He noticed that her hands were shaking as she pulled out the small piece of paper, and were still shaking when she handed it back to the officer.

The officer took the registration, clipping it alongside her license. "Do you know why I stopped you miss?"

"I can guess," she said faintly.

"Uh huh," the officer said, taking down the information off of her license. "You were going 20 over the posted speed limit back there."

Bra just nodded.

"Is this your real name miss?" the officer said showing Bra her own drivers license. She nodded, her lower lip starting to tremble. "Any relation to Bulma Briefs?"

Suddenly, for no apparent reason, Bra started bawling. 17 was so shocked that he actually jumped, pressing himself against the window.

"I… d… didn't m… mean to!" Bra choked out between sobs. "I w... was only going to the m... mall and n... now your g... gonna tell my parents, and… and they're gonna take m… my car away, and Daddy's gonna yell at meeeeeee!"

17 resisted the urge to cover his ears and block out the piercing noise. He didn't know how she was doing it, but Bra was causing irreparable harm to his circuits. The sound of her crying was actually setting off his pain centers, and 17 once again found himself cursing Doctor Gero.

He didn't know how he was going to do it, but he had to get the noise to stop. He was willing to do anything it took to stop that sound, which was obviously causing errors to develop in his electronic brain.

It had to be a massive systems error. That was the only way to explain what he was doing. He took off his bandana and handed it to Bra so that she could dry the streams of liquid flowing down her cheeks.

The officer must have found the sound unbearable too, because he was trying to do everything he could to stop the wailing, finally taking the ticket and tearing it up, telling Bra he was going to let her off with a warning.

Bra sniffed as she removed the piece of orange cloth from her eyes to look at the officer, her eyes sparkling. "Really?"

The cop nodded and only her seatbelt prevented Bra from jumping out of the car and hugging the man. "But," he said, shaking his finger at her, "I better not catch you speeding again young lady."

"Oh no, I'll be more careful from now on Mister Police Officer, Sir," She said in her most cutesy voice, her smile overly sweet and happy. 17, in the meantime, had recovered his senses and was trying to retrieve his bandana from the Saiyan-demon's clutches without gagging from having to listen to her act.

He grabbed the orange cloth, and wrung it out, thankful that she hadn't gone for full-blown drama and blown her nose into it. He would hate to have to incinerate it, since there was no detergent in the universe would make it clean enough to wear again.

"You do that, Miss, and you two have a good day," he said, waving as Bra slowly pulled back onto the road. When th girl was gone Officer Rokubungi stopped smiling and put a hand up to his aching head. Sometimes he didn't think he was supposed to be a cop. Shooting people, that he could do. Chasing down a suspect on the freeway at over 180 kilometers an hour? Easy. But dealing with teenage girls? Ha! He was almost as bad as his spineless son in that regard. He sighed. "Mom was right. I should have been a doctor."

. . .

They parked in at the far end of the mall's parking lot, despite the fact that it was early and there were plenty of open spots near the mall's entrance. But Bra refused to park where some maniac would scratch her paint.

Of course, she started whining about her feet hurting before they were even halfway to the doors. 17 rolled his eyes. It was her own fault for wearing heels. Should should've worn a nice pair of sneakers, but nooooooooooooooo. 'Fashion over comfort!' she said, 'Fashion over comfort!'

They immediately headed for the biggest shoe store in the mall. There was a sale on that day, and according to Bra, all the good shoes would vanish quickly if they didn't hurry up and grab what they wanted.

And apparently what 'they' wanted was almost every shoe in the store. Bra pulled shoes from the shelves with lightning speed, sometimes only checking to be sure she had the correct size, and stacked them in the arms of the grumbling android. When he opened his mouth to ask what the point of putting heels on a pair of flip-flops was, she took it as an invitation to let him hold said shoes with his teeth. 17 could only growl as he bit down on the shoe in irritation.

After she had accumulated enough shoes (to circle the Earth three times…) Bra headed to the register with 17 stumbling along behind her. The clerk rang up the purchase and Bra handed him a credit card.

BeepBeepBeep.

"I'm sorry ma'am," the clerk said. "Your card has been declined. Would you have another?"

The Princess pulled her wallet and, with skill that would make a Yugioh player blush, drew five cards, fanned them out, selected a card and placed it on the counter.

"Sorry, but this card was rejected too."

Growling menacingly, Bra pulled out all of her cards and threw them on the counter. One of them just HAD to work.

But none of them did. After the final card had been rejected, a message popped up on the clerk's screen. The clerk opened a drawer beneath the register and pulled out a pair of scissors.

Bra watched helplessly, as the clerk brought her gleaming silver scissors up to the side of the first card.

The scissors closed with a soft snip, though to Bra, it was like the sickening impact of a guillotine upon the neck of one of her favorite superstars.

One by one the cards were cut in two, and Bra's heart cried out for them.

Snip. _Orlando Bloom…_

Snip. _Tom Wellings…_

Snip. _No! Not Sephy!_

17 could only cheer silently inside, as the princess's precious credit cards were reduced to useless strips of plastic. That would certainly cut the trip short. He looked over to capture the stunned and probably angry look on Bra's face to his memory. What he saw was not what he had expected, and actually made him rethink pulling this particular prank.

She looked as though she were about to burst into tears, her bottom lip quivering as she tried to hold them back. She didn't care about the cards so much as she cared about her image. She had never been so embarrassed, especially in a store. She would never be able to set foot in the store again as long as she lived without remembering what had happened. Right now she just wanted to crawl into a corner and disappear.

But another part of her wanted to wreak unholy havoc upon the mall and erase all trace of the incident ever occurring. 17 could sense the small buildup of power inside the girl standing next to him. He didn't care whether or not Bra was happy (Uh huh, riiiiight. Do any of you actually believe that for even a second?), but he did not want to be at the epicenter of a disaster he would likely catch the blame for.

"Wait just a second," he said, stopping the clerk from slicing up the final card, the one with the pretty picture of Legolas on it. "I'm sure this is all just a mistake."

Bra looked up at 17, a bit of wonder in her eyes at the action of the formerly-evil android, who normally would have reveled in her suffering. Hell, she would have enjoyed watching this if it wasn't happening to her.

17 was just as confused, circuits screaming at each other, _what the hell are you doing? We have her right where we want her. Don't let up now!_

"Just let her keep the card until she can get this straightened out…" His mind yelled, out at him to stop, to let the cashier finish her appointed duty. "…and I'll buy the shoes."

If it wasn't for her Saiyan pride, Bra would have glomped 17 right then and there. As it was she was content to smile triumphantly while protectively clutching her recently returned Legolas credit card.

If it wasn't for the fact that the device had been removed, 17 would have self-destructed right then and there. As it was he had to suffer through what must have been a glitch in his thought processes. He quickly tried to remedy the situation. "Don't think I'm doing this to be nice. You're gonna owe me for this."

"Yeah, yeah," she said half ignoring him as she grabbed another pair of nearby shoes from a sales rack that had caught her attention. "Don't worry, I'll pay you back as soon as Daddy gets back and has a little talk with the credit card companies."

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! he admonished himself, the half of his conscience that remained evil smacking the other half upside the head with a lead pipe. Now Bra was happier than she had been the last time they went shopping and he had told her to get both pairs of shoes…

17 grinned a very grinchy grin…

Pulling out his seldom used wallet, 17 pretended to dig around for money. "Oops."

Bra, who had been happily looking over the boxes of shoes she had been prepared to buy, snapped her head in his direction. "Oops? What 'oops'? The princess doesn't like 'oops'."

"Sorry, princess," he said, emphasizing that last part, "but I don't have enough cash to get all these."

"So. Use YOUR credit card."

17 shook his head, "It's only for emergencies, and besides, the number of shoes you've picked out go waaaaay over my credit limit."

Bra paled, freezing as though she had been dipped in a vat of liquid nitrogen. 17 could swear that if he flicked her she would shatter on the spot. Thankfully he valued his existence far too much to even think of attempting to test his theory.

Shaking off the shock Bra stared at the stack of shoes in front of her, a veritable tower of boxes, each one cradling its precious cargo within a delicate nest of tissue paper. How was she ever going to thin down the pack, let alone narrow the selection to a single pair.

Her face a mask of determination, she grabbed the boxes. She looked around until she found a space that would work well and set the boxes down. Bra then set out arranging the shoes into categories, classifying them so that she could determine which pair would be chosen as the best.

Thus began the first Shoedokai tournament…

… at least that was the caption playing across 17's mind at the moment, as he watched the Saiyan princess prepare for battle.

She soon had the entire floor covered in boxes. Laying the shoeboxes out so she could see every pair as she organized them. The prettiest decorations, those with the sharpest heels, the ones with the tallest heels, shoes that matched most of her wardrobe (red, purple, silver and black), the most unique…

The most expensive… (Hey, 17 said one pair. He never specified a price)

17 found the whole display amusing as Bra worked at a frantic pace to sort the shoes, literally flying over the sea of shoes, reorganizing her columns as a different shoe caught her fancy and was moved to the top. At one point the store manager walked over to have her move the shoes, as they were blocking traffic through the aisles.

Big mistake.

Bra glared at him out of the corner of her eyes, and 17 could swear he heard a growl directed at the foolish mortal who dared interrupt her handiwork. The android laughed as the poor fool withered underneath the Saiyan princess's fierce gaze and slunk away to the false safety of back of the store.

In the end, the title of Grand Champion went to a pair of purple glitter platforms with rhinestone-encrusted star clippies, which Bra hugged to her chest possessively in case 17 suddenly decided to change his mind.

17 may have been sadistic, cruel and uncaring (despite recent evidence to the contrary), but he was a man/android of his word. And despite the fact that the shoes Bra had picked out were almost the most expensive in the store, He had plenty of money with which to pay for them.

Logging was good work, especially when one was an indestructible android with super strength. Of course, he had an entire "crew" of lumberjacks working for him. The company never seemed to notice that all the paychecks were forwarded into the same account. Not that they'd really care. His team was by far the most profitable, even though it was just him doing the work. So long as he kept the lumber rolling out, the dough would keep on rolling in.

He'd never let the princess find out though, especially on this trip, otherwise she'd latch on to him like a remora on a shark (or 19 on Vegeta, as the case may be).

Worse yet, she might con him into taking some of that money and (shudder) redecorating his cabin. That was NOT going to happen. It was bad enough he had dreams of her giving him a complete makeover, dreams which woke him with his own screams. Do androids dream of electric sheep? NO! they dream of demons in purple with trays full of curlers and styling gels and funny-smelling perfumes.

And the ribbons… Oh Dende, the ribbons!

Yes, he realized it was only dreams, that Bra would never really do that to him _No_, he thought_, she'd probably do something worse, like make me up to look like Nick Carter, or that blonde elf-boy she was so hung up on, one of her many crushes from various anime series. _No, he wouldn't let that happen. He refused to become a cosplayer!

Once Bra had her shoes safe in their protective plastic bag, she was ready to leave the store. 17 smirked to himself. One store, only a short segment of his precious time, and he was already free. The simplicity of it all was comical. He turned to Bra and said "Ok, lets get going."

"Yes!" she said excitedly. "We still have a lot more stores to go to today."

"W…what?!" She couldn't be serious, how could they possibly go to any more stores. "But we don't have enough money left to buy anything else."

"Silly android," she laughed. "You don't need to buy anything to go shopping."

And with that she grabbed his arm and dragged him off to his doom…

Bra had managed to find a bright side to the whole disaster though. Despite the tragic loss of most of her credit cards, she had still managed to get one pair of shoes, and prided herself on that feat. And there was something liberating about shopping when you knew you weren't going to buy anything.

And it drove the store clerks nuts when you were "just looking".

Especially when they knew who you were, and opened up all the expensive cases for you. She went to at least three jewelry stores, trying on several tons in precious metals and gemstones. 17 could swear that one of the clerks was having a stroke when Bra told her she was just browsing today, and though he despised shopping, even he had to admit that that particular incident was hilarious.

Of course, the majority of the time was not nearly as fun. Bra spent most of her time trying on clothes, even though she knew she wasn't going to be purchasing anything. She hauled him from one clothing store to the next, as 17 tried to put his electronic brain into hibernation to lessen the duration of his torment. Tried, was the operative word, as the princess kept asking for his opinion and interrupting his attempts.

"Which do you think is better," Bra asked, holding out one shirt, "the red 'princess' shirt with the purple glitter?"

"OR," she said holding out another, "The purple 'princess' shirt with the silver glitter?"

"What does it matter?" 17 protested. "You're not going to buy either one!"

"So?" she said holding both shirts out in front to compare them for herself. "I might like one and come back and get it later."

"This whole trip is pointless," 17 muttered, knowing that it WAS his scheme. How was he to know the princess would find a way to turn his plot around on him.

"You know, you could have a little better attitude," the princess said, as she hung the shirts back on their rack. "Most guys would kill just to be seen with me."

Oh please, Dende, let one of them kill me right now…

With that last though 17 leaned against a column and closed his eyes, waiting for Bra to finish whatever it was she wanted to do.

Looking at 17 with her hands resting on her hips, Bra realized she had been a little unfair to the android. After all, he did buy her a pair of shoes, and looking at the way he dressed he couldn't have too much money to spend. So the princess decided to show a little 'mercy' and give him a break from all the clothes shopping. She knew how much guys hated shopping for clothes. Without warning she grabbed the dozing 17's hair and dragged his protesting form out of Rave and towards their next destination.

"Hey! Hands off the merchandise!" he shouted, which was interesting to watch as he was being dragged backwards through the mall and tried to bend back far enough to see where they were headed.

"Oh, good Dende, no…" he said when he saw where they were going. No. Not that. Anyplace but that! He'd rather go back to the pet store and let the fluff balls crawl all over him.

Purple, pink and pristine white loomed ahead, demonic felines guarding the gates of Hell, a warning to inscribed overhead in blood red letters.

Of course someone had abbreviated 'all hope abandon, ye that enter here' down to one word.

Sanrio.

"Please, not there. I'll buy you shoes, just don't make me go in there!"

"No, no," Bra chided. "As you already said, those are for emergencies only."

"This IS and emergency!"

"Oh, you know you love this store." Bra giggled evilly.

17 whimpered as he was dragged into the store. The next half hour he had to endure the amused stares of the two giggling clerks who weren't used to seeing guys in their store, while Bra tried to decide who she liked more, Chimaru or Cinnamonroll.

"I can't believe you like this junk," 17 said, flicking a plushie on the nose.

"Junk? Oh please. You're the one that lives in a run down shack. OOOOHHHH!" She grabbed up the Pochaco plush keychain she had spotted from halfway across the store.

"That has gotta be the stupidest looking thing i have ever seen," 17 said.

"No its not. Its cute!" Bra said as she 'huggled' the plushie. "You just have no taste."

"I've got better taste than you, Princess." 17 said walking to wait by the doorway. "Besides," he muttered, "everyone knows Badtz-Maru is cooler."

After a little more cuteness, Bra apparently had enough and left, 17 following a short distance behind her.

"So," 17 said, "where to next, Princess?"

"There," she said, pointing at a store in bright red, the words 'Victoria's Secret' glowing above.

17 gulped. He may have been an android, but he had been human at one point, and the mere thought of that store made his skin want to go crimson. He managed to suppress the reaction, masking his apprehension behind bravado. "What're we going there for? You gonna give me a show or something?"

"In your dreams, pervert!" she said in disgust. "They have more there than just underwear!"

"Oh, good," he said with a smirk. "For a minute I thought you were going there searching for names to give your future offspring."

"OOOH!" Bra stomped her foot and stormed towards the store. She stopped at the door and turned back. "Well, are you coming?"

"No thanks," he said. "I'll be waiting over at Gamestop."

"So, I visit my namesakes, you visit your ancestors?" Bra grinned, as 17 gave her his best glare (well, best without actually trying to blast her, that is). She just stuck her tongue out at him in response before disappearing into the store.

17's hopes of passing the time playing video games was shot down as all the systems were occupied by annoying little trolls, the kid that looked like Bobby Hill occupying the Playstation 2, Pugsley from the Adams Family had the Gamecube, and the kid that could have passed himself off as Eric Cartman even down to the foul mouth and annoying voice had clamped his little mitts to the X-Box. So 17 was forced to content himself with digging through the old NES games. Sad as it might have seemed, the only system he had at home was an ancient Nintendo Entertainment System, some of the games he still hadn't finished yet. _Stupid hammer-chucking Bowser…_

He could have poured all his processing power into the game, utterly stomping the Koopa King's digital ass, but these games were designed for a human brain, and if he couldn't beat it while holding back, then what was the point. It wasn't like he dumbed himself down to the level of his brother-in-law, just enough to make it a challenge and a bit more fun.

Digging through the games and other knickknacks kept him entertained for about ten minutes, he eventually tired of it and picked up one of the gaming magazines to read. The troglodyte behind the counter started to protest, but thought better of it when 17 sent an energy bolt careening through the bottom of the Big Gulp he was holding. 17 continued to quietly read the magazine, while the frightfully pale clerk stared at the Mountain Dew pouring down off the counter and onto his shoe.

Four magazines and forty minutes later, 17 was getting tired of waiting. He knew Bra took a long time to shop, but what could she have possibly been looking at that would keep her attention for almost an hour?

He tossed the magazine onto the counter as he left, causing the edgy clerk to scream and dive for cover. He headed straight for Victoria's Secret, ignoring the mortified thoughts going through his processors. He was an android. These things shouldn't bother him. The opinions of the few human woman inhabiting the store held no importance.

He looked from side to side, ignoring the gawking faces, trying to pick out the Princess in the store. She shouldn't be so hard to find. He muttered under his breath, "Dammit, where is Bra at?"

"Excuse me sir," came a tiny voice from behind him, "but bras are over there on the other side of the sales rack."

All 17's mental preparation went out the window as he turned to face the young woman behind him. _Warning! System malfunction! Loss of verbal control. Stuttering protocols engaged. Attempting to reestablish external communication. _"What? Uh… No t..that's not what I meant. I'm not here looking for a bra I'm looking for a girl WAIT I MEAN I'M LOOKING FOR A GIRL WHO IS A BRA! NO, I MEAN…"

Control reestablished.

17 started to talk again, but thankfully much clearer. "A companion of mine came in here earlier. Her name is Bra Briefs. Blue hair, red and purple clothes, probably clutching a shopping bag in a death grip and emitting an aura of evil. Seen her?"

"Ummm, well I did see a girl with blue hair," The saleswoman said timidly, pointing to the back of the store. "She was heading back to the changing rooms last I saw."

"Thank you," 17 replied with a relieved sigh. He did not want to be in this store any longer than he had to. He marched over to the changing rooms with an almost military air about him, except for the distinctly grunge-punk look to his clothes, and the long hair, and the earrings, and the… oh heck he just looked like he was scared stiff to even be there.

Thankfully for him, the changing rooms were little more than stalls set off to one side of the store, rather than being a completely separate room. Though it wasn't like there would have been a separate changing room for men in the store, they didn't really have a need for one (at least he didn't think they did). Only one of the doors was actually closed, the rest hanging open.

He knocked on the side of the partition and called out impatiently, "Bra?"

"Ah," came the surprised voice from inside. "Uh… just a minute." This was followed by a hurried rustling of cloth.

Inside the stall, Bra quickly removed the silk and satin pajamas she had been trying on. That incident with the bunny had damaged one of her favorite pairs (she snagged them on a piece of wood on her wardrobe and tore a hole in the delicate fabric). She had been wanting to buy a replacement today, though she had been content to settle with trying some on.

Of course, when you try on every pair that catches your attention, its easy to lose track of time.

And now, she was again taking too long, as she awkwardly attempted to grab her clothes while unbuttoning the top. She managed to get the pajama pants off and get the last of the buttons on the top undone. She got one shoe on, and was fastening the buckle on the other, hopping on one foot. She reached for her skirt which was hanging on the door, and her feet became entangled in the pajamas lying on the floor.

With a terrified cry, she fell forward, trying to catch herself on the door, which, of course, flew open the moment her hand brushed against it. Her arms flailing, she grabbed the nearest object at hand in an attempt to stop her fall, but that only succeeded in bringing the object to the ground with her.

"Oof!"

Wait a minute… Bra thought as she sat up. _I didn't 'oof'_.

She looked down at the object she had grabbed in her fall, which had been surprisingly soft and easy to knock over, yet still solidly constructed, and which she currently sat astride.

And which was gazing deep into her own eyes with startlingly blue ones.

Bra gulped, her face growing hot as she took in the situation. Her hands rested on his chest, one of his hands resting on her knee. Her mind and body were frozen. She was afraid to let her eyes wander and kept them locked on his.

17 too took in the situation, his face looking more stunned than Bra's, though he was able to keep his own blushing down to an unnoticeable level. He thanked Dende that the Princess couldn't read his thoughts, or he'd never hear the end of it._ Don't blow a microchip. Don't blow a microchip. Don't blow a microchip… _he repeated over and over.

Here he was, lying on the ground, a half dressed Saiyan girl who (even he had to admit) wasn't too hard on the eyes sitting on top of him. The pale violet pajama top she still wore kept most of her covered, except for her legs, which extended out beyond the silk boundaries, and her front which was only visible from a limited number of viewpoints.

Obviously, 17's current position was one of the best of those vantage points, allowing him an ideal view of the Princess's delicate collarbone, her soft skin, the deep purple lace that covered her chest, the smoothness of her stomach, her muscles toned from years of dancing…

Of course, to notice all that, he had to break eye contact with the Princess and look down...

Bra caught the motion and her mind was instantly awake.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!" she screamed. "Pervert!!!!"

17 was immediately broken from his trance. "Pervert?! You're calling me a pervert?!"

Bra crossed her arms protectively over her chest and tried to pull the pajama top closed. "Yes I am and… AAAAHHH! Get your filthy hand off my leg!" She said as she slapped the offending appendage away.

"Who are you to call ME a pervert, princess?" 17 shot back at her, trying to regain some of his dignity. "Who's the one that basically glomped me in nothing but her underwear?"

Bra's face became even redder, first with embarrassment, then anger, then embarrassment again as she realized she was still sitting, half-naked atop the cynical android. Regaining her good sense, she decided to return to the safety of the stall to finish dressing.

Not so easy a task when one of your feet was resting on top of your top.

She tried to stand with dignity, only to be jerked to a sudden stop, and yanked back down with a yelp, landing in, if it was possible, an even more compromising position.

"Comfortable?" 17 smirked as Bra grumbled to herself, shooting him a glare that told him to shut it or he'd regret it. Bra again attempted to extricate herself from the position, and once again she was pulled back to the ground.

"Here, let me help," 17 said with frustration, reaching for the trapped cloth.

"I can do it myself."

"Just hold still…"

"I don't need your help!"

"Would you stop wiggling?"

"Be careful with that."

"I know what I'm doing."

"You're gonna rip it!"

"There!" 17 said triumphantly as he finally slid the cloth out from under Bra and she was at last able to stand up.

"EEP!" Maybe he should have helped her buckle her shoes while he was at it…

One of Bra's high-heeled shoes (already not the most stable footwear in the world), slipped off sideways, knocking the Saiyan Princess off balance and sent her tumbling back down to the floor.

17 caught Bra as she fell, which could have been a sweet, heroic, tender moment for them, had the Android been standing. As it was, he was only able to catch her clumsily as she fell flat on top of him. Bra and 17 both cursed, Bra trying to push herself up off the floor again, 17 trying to push the Princess off of him.

Drawing one of her knees up so she could stand, Bra finally noticed the awkward, inappropriate, and somewhat convenient, positioning of one of the android's hands. 17 obviously just noticed himself, because he gulped nervously.

All thoughts of the awkward position they were in was erased in a moment…

Beepbeep. Flash. CLICK!

…then brought back with the force of a freight train as they realized what just happened.

Neither of the two boys could have been any older than fourteen, one wearing a black tracksuit, the other was the quintessential nerd. The sandy-haired nerd was grinning like an idiot, digital camera in hand.

Bra and 17 blinked at the two, looked at each other, blinked again…

"HEY!" 17 shouted as he unceremoniously dumped Bra off of him. "Give me that camera!"

"Oh shit…" The nerd muttered. "Run for it, Touji!"

"Come back here you little brats!" 17 yelled as he took off after the two, leaving the mortified Saiyan Princess behind. Timidly, the princess gathered her scattered articles of clothing returned to the changing stall to dress.

. . .

Ducking inside a service corridor, the two teens stopped to catch their breath after eluding their pursuer.

"I… think… we… lost him." The nerd gasped, his face red.

"Damn, man!" The jock said. "We only ran a hundred meters. You're really outa shape."

The nerd glared at him and opened his mouth to say something when they heard the sound of doors slamming open.

"Alright kiddies," The menacingly icy voice of their pursuer resounded off the concrete walls. "Playtime's over. So why don't you just stop running and give me the camera."

The nerd's already pale complexion lost any traces of color. The jock tried to think of a way out, which looked to be a painful undertaking for him. "Okay, okay. I got an idea. maybe if we give him the camera…"

"Are you crazy?!" The nerd hissed, clutching his precious protectively. "I'm not giving up my brand new camera!"

"What what do you wanna do!?"

The nerd looked around for a means of escape. "There. You go down that way, and I'll go this way. He can't follow both of us."

The jock nodded and took off down one access tunnel. The nerd headed in the opposite direction, heading back into the mall and towards the food court. He was pretty sure he had lost the black haired boy this time.

He turned the corner and froze. It was the girl! She was sitting at a table in the food court. Dammit! he jumped back behind a pillar, peeking out from behind it.

"Did she see you?"

"Nope, not a chance," He chuckled to himself. Then froze. He slowly turned toward the voice and…

The resulting scream was so loud and high-pitched that Sesshy started whimpering even though Capsule Corp. was nearly thirty kilometers away.

The kid tried to run for it, but 17 grabbed him by his collar and yanked him off his feet. The nerd started sniveling as 17 dragged him away. "Your lucky I'm in a good mood kid, or I would've let the Princess deal with you herself."

"All I'm going to do is take this…" he said grabbing the camera. The kid tried to grab it back, but emitted a short "eep" when the android crushed the camera in one hand and fused it into a solid ball of plastic, silicon and metal with a little extra energy. "Now… what to do with you?"

The nerd cringed and backed up against the wall, as the android closed on him with a look that could only be described as evil.

. . .

Bra flicked her finger against the rim of her cup as she slowly sipped on the mocha frappachino she had bought with the last little bit of her cash. She was still in a bad mood from what had happened at Victoria's Secret. It was good that 17 had left so she could get dressed in peace, but she was still angry that he had ditched her.

Speaking of the devil… she grumbled mentally as the erstwhile android walked, no more like swaggered, up to the table. Bra barely spared him an annoyed glower before turning her attention back to her drink.

"Got a present for you, Princess," he said with a smirk, causing Bra to raise an eyebrow and glance back in his direction.

17 dropped the object in question on the table in front of her with a loud clunk, causing her to jump and her eyes to go wide as the black and silver ball rolled toward her and stop against her cup. "What the hell is this?" she asked, wondering why 17 suddenly reminded her of Sesshy, and why she had a sudden urge to throw the ball and yell 'fetch'.

"Used to be a digital camera," 17 said as he flopped down in the chair across from her and put his feet up. "Now I think its more of a paperweight."

Bra blinked, feeling the tension draining from her body. It was such a relief to know that that photo was no longer out there to haunt her. But that still left one witness (well, one male witness with a digital memory and a penchant for evil deeds) to deal with.

"Look… 17..." Bra said through clenched teeth. It was killing her to have to say this, not to mention embarrassing. "Would you please mind if we kept this little incident to ourselves? I don't want my family finding out."

"Don't worry about it. As far as I'm concerned this will stay between you and me" Bra blinked in surprise at 17's words. She had been certain she would have to resort to at least a few threats, or maybe some bribes. Before she could ask why, 17 explained. "Hell, you think I want your family to find out either?! The last thing I need is another reason for your father and 'brothers' to want to kill me."

Bra shivered. The last thing SHE needed was her dad having another reason to keep even closer tabs on her personal life. She had it pretty good right now, but if he found out, her dad would act as personal chaperone every time she was allowed to leave the house, which would most likely be sometime after her thirtieth birthday. And that was if her dad showed any restraint.

"Fine. I keep my mouth shut and you keep your mouth shut," she said.

"Deal." he said, as they shook hands.

Bra leaned her face on her hands her elbows on the table. "So, what did you do to those little punks?"

"They split up, so I never caught the one in the tracksuit." 17 said. "But I caught the little one with the camera and relieved him of it."

"You should have taught the little brat a lesson," Bra griped.

"Don't worry, he did. He won't be hanging out near any women's clothing stores for a long time."

. . .

The nerd in question WAS, however, hanging out in front of Suncoast, waiting for someone. He didn't really care who it was, so long as they got him down from where he strung up.

17 had taken the boys pants and belt and used them as a rope, tying him up by his ankles outside of the video store, hanging him from the red metalwork around the store's entrance. His shirt had fallen down around his head, blinding him to the snickering spectators, including more than a few girls his age. To ensure that no one tried to help him down, 17 had left a note written on the boy's chest and back in permanent marker.

!!!WARNING!!!

!!Property of Prince Vegeta!!

!!Help at your own risk!!

Needless to say, anyone with even an ounce of intelligence would not even speak to the kid.

"Jeez man! What the heck happened to you?"

"Touji?" the nerd said his voice full of hope. "Oh thank Kami. I thought I was going to be stuck here all day."

"How did he get you up there?"

"He's stronger than he looks," the nerd grumbled. "Now, HURRY UP AND GET ME DOWN!"

"Yeah yeah. Just stop thrashing around for a moment." The jock looked around. "He didn't leave a ladder, did he?"

"I don't know, I couldn't see very well at the time!"

"Well, its gonna take a little while, but…" he stopped.

"But? But what? What is it Touji?"

The jock froze because he saw two girls he knew from his class at school coming out of Basic next door. One was freckled girl who wore her brown hair up in pigtails, the other a red-haired German exchange student best known to them as 'The Demon'.

"Sorry man. You're on your own!" The jock said before he took off.

"What? Touji?!" the nerd shouted as his friend sprinted away. "Don't just leave me hanging here!"

It was then that he heard the girl's voices as they started coming out of the store, and he could only pray that they wouldn't come his way.

"You mean you two actually…" the pigtailed girl said sounding bashful.

"Mein Gott, Hikari! You make it sound so dirty when you say it like that." The German girl said. "All we did was kiss."

"Soooo… What happened?"

"Hold on, I want to check out some DVDs," the German said, causing the nerd to whimper. The girl continued, "Well, I started to pinch his nose shut at first, but then the baka actually showed some backbone and…AAAAAAAHHH!!! Hikari! Don't look!"

"Huh?" the pigtailed girl said finally looking ahead of her getting an eyeful of pasty-nerd-belly. "EEEEEEP!"

The nerd felt like he could shrivel up and die right then and there. The German girl agreed, and sought to help him on his way by clubbing his stomach with her shopping bags. The only consolation he had for the way he was being abused was that he had removed the memory card from the camera before it was destroyed.

. . .

17 had decided to be generous with Bra and get her something to eat. After all, he couldn't have Bulma accusing him of neglecting his charge. Given that she was the only one that actually needed to eat, Bra got to choose where they went. So they sat there in front of Hotdog-on a-Stick , Bra eating her deep-fried, batter-dipped calorie bomb, while 17 amused himself by poking fun at the uniforms of the poor slobs that had to work there. He wondered if the employees were required to smile all the time, or if the fast-food chain just kept there workers drugged, or if they simply only hired the insane. 17 chose the latter as the most likely solution.

While the two enjoyed the brief respite from their mutual attempts to provoke one another (and united in their enjoyment in the misery of others), another pair looked on from nearby.

"Hehe. Can you believe what he did to that kid?" The voice was followed by more amused giggling from the speaker.

"Yes, I can believe it, and I'm surprised you find it so amusing." Popo said taking another bite out of his blueberry muffin.

"Bleh!" Dende said before taking another swig from the HUGE mug in front of him. "That kid had it coming for a long time now."

Popo was speechless at Dende's sudden change in attitude. It HAD been his idea to visit Starbucks again, and he did suggest that Dende try something new for once, but he had no idea the effect coffee would have on the normally composed Namek.

Especially when Dende seemed to have taken a liking to triple-shot espresso, which he bought in quantities sufficient to fill his '#1 Earth-Guardian' mug and topped off with about a kilo of sugar.

"Maybe we should head back to Kami's lookout now," Popo suggested.

"Good idea." Dende said hopping off his stool "But lets grab a bag of those beans to munch on the way back."

"I don't think they're meant to be eaten that way," Popo said, not wanting Dende to discover chocolate-covered espresso beans.

"Fine. We'll just have to get a coffee maker before we leave," the Guardian of Earth said, before looking back at the Saiyan and android sitting across the food court. A twitchy smile graced his green lips.

"I just had a great idea."

"What?" Popo asked. "What are you thinking of?"

"Nothing really," Dende said. "Just a bit of karma, and a dash of fate."

Popo sweatdropped as the Namek started giggling evilly, just like one of those creatures from that movie, what were they called again… Oh yeah, a gremlin.

A hyperactive, caffeine-addicted Guardian of the Earth was definitely a bad thing.

. . .

Bra seemed to have had enough of clothes shopping after the 'incident'. Instead, she dragged 17 towards flashing lights and a cacophony of noise and music. 17 once again had to dish out some cash but this time he was more than happy to. If there was one thing he and Bra could both agree that they loved, it was an arcade.

Bra challenged 17 to a round of DDR, set on heavy. It took 17 a moment to get his bearings, but once he did the android in his blue tennis shoes had a distinct advantage over the Saiyan Princess in her high heeled shoes, especially when she had just eaten two corn dogs and a side of chili fries.

It wasn't that the Princess was a pig like Goku or his sons. She ate with all the dignity and grace of a princess, but she was still a Saiyan, and her higher metabolic rate demanded more calories than a normal person. Unfortunately for her, the recent meal threw off her game, and Bra was dismayed with her unusually poor performance.

Not that a total score of 'A' was bad, but it wasn't enough to beat 17's 'AA'.

"Nice try, princess." 17 smirked. "I'd offer you a rematch, but I plan to get at least 'AAA' on the next round, so I think a victory on your part would be a little difficult."

Bra growled at the egotistical android. Fine then. If he wanted to play, then they were going to play. Grabbing him by the arm she dragged him from the platform. "New game, Cyber-punk!"

Great, just what he needed. A new nickname. Oh well, at least it was better than 'Toaster Oven' or 'Scrap Heap'.

She dragged him over to Para Para Paradise, glaring at the geek on the platform until he felt it wiser (and healthier) to find another game. Bra took the first turn, setting the game to its highest difficulty before kicking into high-gear dance mode. Her arms flowed seamlessly and gracefully through each series of arrows, her hands triggering the sensors perfectly every time. On some songs, which she seemed to know far too well, she even closed her eyes and simply grooved to the beat, never missing a single arrow.

"There! Try to beat that score android." She said, smirking triumphantly as she entered her name in the number one spot.

17 snorted and stepped up to the platform. "Not even a challenge."

But the cocky android soon found himself mentally cursing the game, which was giving him far more difficulty than he had anticipated. He eventually gave up on trying to mimic the princess's movements, and instead attempted to punch the arrows as they appeared. Of course it was difficult to concentrate when the princess kept shouting tips from the sidelines.

"No, that's not how you do it!"

"This isn't a fighting game! Stop mashing the arrows!"

"You need to learn to dance something other than 'The Robot'!"

17 growled as the last song finished, already knowing he hadn't beaten the Saiyan Princess's score. Damn, he didn't even get close! He just barely made it into the top ten, being bested by the Princess and several other names. He was tempted to express his contempt for the game by entering an expletive, but decided to show a bit more dignity.

Bra had that annoying smirk on her face when 17 stepped off the platform. "Bow down to the Princess," she said in that disgustingly sugar-sweet superior tone of hers.

17 returned the smirk. "In your dream's. Score's still tied in this contest. We need a tie-breaker."

"Fine. What do you want to play?" She said impatiently, itching for the chance to prove her greatness.

"An older game. None of these sensor or dance pad ones. Something with a joystick and buttons."

"No shooting or puzzle games," Bra added, knowing 17 would love to use his cybernetic brain as an advantage. "Something more organic. Where both strategy and reaction speed are important."

"Fighting game?"

"Works for me?"

"Your pick?" 17 asked. He wasn't going to have Bra accuse him of cheating her if she sucked at whatever game he chose.

"Go ahead and pick whatever you want."

"No, I insist."

"Ok, both of us choose on Three." she said frustrated with the politeness game.

"One.Two.Three. TEKKEN!" they both said in unison, blinking in surprise that they had both picked the same game, their expressions quickly turning to smug smirks as both sensed their impending victory.

They both snapped their heads toward the miraculously unoccupied game (miraculous, because anyone who might have been playing it would have found themselves in another dimension) and dashed to the controls. 17 ended up as second player, which was just fine to him. Bra chose her character first, Anna Williams, and waited for 17 to choose his.

17 looked at her sneeringly. "Let me guess. You always play as her and you have all her moves memorized?"

"Of course," Bra responded, tossing her hair back so it wouldn't get in the way of her gaming. "Why? Scared you're gonna lose to me?"

"No," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "But its good to know that when I win, I really will be the better player."

With that, he set the cursor over the random character slot letting it cycle at blinding speed through the characters. He wasn't actually choosing a random character. He knew exactly what character he needed to beat Bra. After a few seconds, having memorized the pattern, he hit the select button.

The selected fighter was shown, and 17 grinned while Bra cried out.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

The game announcer's voice called out, "Anna Williams Vs. Hwoarang!"

"No! Not my pretty, red-haired biker boy!" she almost pleaded to the game, as though it had personally betrayed her by choosing, if not her favorite fighter to play, her favorite to look at. 17 half expected her to say 'Et tu Hwoarang?' as the battle commenced.

17's first punch was easily blocked by Bra, as her character quickly backpedaled to avoid the blows of 17's fighter. She dodged and blocked better than the computer could, but 17 was quickly locating and exploiting the holes in her defense, using grabs when he got close enough.

At one point, Bra accidentally grabbed 17's fighter instead of dodging around as she had intended, surprising them both as Anna threw Hwoarang, sending him crashing to the ground and lowering his health gauge for the first time since the battle began.

"Sorry!" Bra cried to the downed fighter, who quickly climbed to his feet and renewed his assault.

The first round was over quickly. It was not until halfway through the second round that Bra realized she was going to lose. At that point she put all thoughts of who she was fighting aside and fought back with all her fury. She surprised 17 several times with powerful and brutally quick combos, at one point knocking his fighter to the ground. He was barely able to roll away as Anna's heel came crashing down where his head was only moments before.

Even though they where now evenly matched in their skill, 17 already had a commanding lead. Bra lost the second round and the match having only knocked 17's life bar down halfway.

"Aw, looks like I win," 17 taunted in that annoyingly calm voice of his, "but no hard feelings Princess. Just lucky I guess."

Bra crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at the game.

"So, want to play anything else?"

"No."

17 shrugged. He still had a handful of tokens, and it seemed a waste to spend them on more video games. He headed over to a UFO catcher an popped a token in.

Bra was surprised when a plushy dropped out of the chute. She was even more shocked when it was followed by another, and another. She eventually walked over to watch, and was soon telling him what prizes to grab.

After a little while, they had to ask for some bags to carry the ever-growing pile of prizes.

. . .

Each of them carrying bags full of plushies and their other prizes from the Arcade, and Bra carrying her bag with her new shoes, the dreadful duo headed back to the Saiyan Princess's car. 17 smirked at Bra, who kept her shoes close and held in an unyielding grip. There was no way she was going to let anything happen to her only fashion acquisition of the day.

If he was human, he would have had a heart attack, when the Saiyan Princess actually stopped and dropped her bags to the ground. She stood, staring at a trio of Junior High students talking in the parking lot. She started walking towards them, homing in on the one in the black tracksuit.

"You!" she shouted accusatorily at the boy. "You're the kid that was staring at my underwear earlier!"

"What?!" the girl in the pigtails shouted. "What is she talking about Tou…"

But the jock had already made a break for it, running away as fast as he could.

"HEY! GET BACK HERE!" Bra shouted, trying to go after him, but 17 had already caught up with her and had restrained her from behind. "Let me go! I'm gonna kill the little brat!"

Bra was putting up a good fight trying to escape. She was flailing her arms and legs and actually dropped her purse, the camera/paperweight rolling out. A hand plucked the sphere off the ground, the pigtailed girl hefting the sphere like a baseball.

"Touji Suzuhara, you baka!" She yelled, lobbing the ball at the retreating form. They all watched with amazement as the projectile pegged the jock in the back of the head, dropping the boy to the asphalt with a yelp. The pigtailed girl's redheaded friend let out a loud "Way to go Hikari!" and clapped her friend on the back.

17 released his hold on Bra, who dusted herself off resentfully, picked up her purse, and headed back to the small pile of bags.

17 stood there amazed for a moment, verifying the distance. 85... 87... Almost 90 meters, and hitting a moving target too. "Wow…" he muttered. "That girl's got a good arm."

Bra's car screeched to a halt next to him, the passenger mirror nearly clipping his backside in the process. He glared at her as he got in, and she took off, her tires squealing on the pavement.

"What the hell did you hold me back for?" the Saiyan Princess demanded.

"To keep you from doing something you might regret later." 17 shot back.

"Oh, I was NOT going to regret punching that jerk's skull in," Bra fumed. I swear, I could have killed him."

"Exactly." 17 said. "I don't know if you realize your own strength, Princess. You may be weak compared to most of the people you've grown up around, but if you had hit that guy he would have certainly ended up in the hospital."

"Protecting your fellow baka-hentais?" Bra said, still mad. She was forced to stop at a red light just before the freeway.

"No. As surprising as it might seem, I was protecting your royal rear end." 17 looked directly at her. No sarcastic smirk. No cold glare. Just a look that could only be described as genuine. "Did you really want to have to call home and tell your mother you're in jail for assault, or worse?"

Bra actually flushed a little bit. She hadn't thought about that. She had just been so mad at the time. If 17 hadn't been looking out for her…

The light turned green, and Bra headed onto the freeway, her attitude considerable more subdued than it had been moments before.

"Oh, and I'm not a Baka," 17 added.

It took Bra a moment to notice what he had said, or more importantly, what he had not said.

"EWWWWWW! You admit it! You ARE a pervert!"

"I admit nothing." 17 said with a cocky smirk.

"You didn't deny it!"

"That proves nothing."

"Fine, be that way," Bra said. "You just be sure to stay on your side of the car, and we won't have any problems."

"Fine by me," 17 said as he leaned back in the seat to enjoy the rest of the ride back.

Unfortunately for the two, fate, or a lack of foresight on both their parts, decided to intervene…

. . .

17 grumbled as he reached under the car as far as he could, getting his nice clean shirt covered in roadside dust. He had a pretty good idea of what he needed to do. He just needed to find the car's center of gravity.

"Hey, its your own fault you know!" Bra pointed out.

"My fault?! How is this MY fault?!" He shouted from underneath the car. Sure it kind of WAS his fault, but she had no way to know that and he wanted to know what she was complaining about now.

"Well, if you actually had a decent job and weren't so broke, we could just get some gas," she explained. "But since you don't do any REAL work, this will be a good experience for you.

Growling, he place one hand behind him against the underside of the car. Placing the other beneath his chest, he pushed himself off the ground while lifting the car. "Well excuse me, Princess," he said sarcastically, "but babysitting you isn't exactly a vacation."

"Bleh, bleh, bleh," the Princess mocked. "Just hurry it up and get me home."

"Yes your royal whininess." 17 replied as he took off into the air, Bra's car held aloft.

Bra sat in the driver's seat, fidgeting as 17 slowly flew them back to Capsule Corp. She was bored now that she wasn't driving, and the steering wheel made it so she was unable to stretch her legs. Sliding the seat back and unbuckling herself, she hopped over to the passenger side so she could put her feet up.

The car shook as the center of gravity shifted suddenly and 17 tried to adjust his hold on the car. "HEY!" he shouted. "Stop moving around up there! You want me to drop this thing?!"

Bra had almost immediately buckled herself back up. holding onto anywhere she could for safety and staying as still as possible. But the android's impertinence made her shout back, "You wouldn't dare!"

After the shaking had stopped, Bra let out a nervous breath, releasing her death grip and cautiously stretching herself out.

The car suddenly jerked violently, then plummeted downward, the Saiyan Princess screaming as it fell. It stopped its sudden decent a moment later. It took Bra a moment to calm herself, and her heart. All the color had drained from her face, but once her breathing had returned to normal, her face grew red with anger. "What was that all about?!"

"Sorry, Princess," 17 chuckled from below, imagining the look on her face for a moment, "but I'm carrying a lot of weight here."

"Oh, please," Bra said rolling her eyes. "I know your sister is strong enough to carry a plane. You can't expect me to believe this car weighs more than that."

"I wasn't talking about the car."

5... 4... 3... 2... 1... 17 counted down as he waited, and right on cue the outraged scream filled the air. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!! You are DEAD, android! I mean it! When we land you are SCRAP METAL! You hear me?!"

"Gee, you're really not giving me much incentive to land safely now…" 17 said casually, laughing as Bra growled to herself and shut her mouth, at least until they got back on the ground.


	5. A New Dance

**Nicholas Bledsoe's Author's Notes: **Whew! Took me long enough to get this done. Sorry for the long delay. I thought I'd be done a long time ago, but school, writer's block and technical difficulties kept me behind schedule for a long time. Anyways, lets get on with the show, before the angry villagers attack with their rakes and torches and... EEP!

(ducks as a pitchfork flies overhead and sticks in the wall)

Yeah, those too.

**_"A New Dance"_**

Once Bra got back to the mansion, her punishment of 17 began. The crime? Daring to insult the great and powerful Saiyan Princess. The sentence? The silent treatment.

17 couldn't be more delighted.

However, he knew it wouldn't last long. Not only would Bra not be able to stay silent, despite her every intention of prolonging his 'suffering', but they had other things to do the next day. His first day of high school with Bra.

He really wasn't looking forward to it, and not just because he had to go with Bra. He never did like school, at least not when he had been human. He didn't really see how things could be any better than when he had gone.

Oh well. There wasn't much he could really do about it. At least now he didn't really have to worry about grades. He just had to hang around and keep up the appearance of the diligent bodyguard to Bulma. Lucky for him, she hadn't caught on to his plans.

-

"You mean you actually let my brother into your house without an armed escort? And as your daughter's bodyguard?"

"Of course," Bulma said, sipping her coffee. "He's not such a bad kid once you get to know him."

"Kid? you forget that he's almost as old as your son, older if you count our lives from before we were made into androids." 18 pointed out. "And you already said that you suspected it was him that planted that proto-droid in Bra's room."

"Yes, but like I told Trunks and my husband. I don't believe for a second that 17 would ever try to hurt Bra. It was just a little prank to try and scare her."

"I still don't get what you're trying to accomplish with this," Chi-Chi chimed in as she stirred some sugar into her teacup.

"Shouldn't you be trying to stop him?" Videl asked. "I mean, it can't be good for your daughter's well being."

"On the contrary, I've never seen her happier," Bulma said. "I'll admit I was worried at first, but once I discovered it was 17 that did it, I knew there was nothing to worry about. Those two are good for each other, despite the bickering."

"Yeah, she's right," Marron, the fifth and final woman in the room spoke up. "I thought I saw uncle 17 the other day at the mall. I would've said hi, but it didn't seem like him. Normally he's so reclusive and broody, but this time he was actually smiling, and I could swear I heard him whistling."

(Author's note: This was BEFORE his plans blew up in his face.)

"My brother was whistling? And without any smoking debris nearby?" 18 thought about it for a moment, then chuckled lightly to herself. "Maybe he's actually starting to grow up."

"Well, I doubt that," Bulma said. "He IS conspiring with my son to torment my daughter. He just doesn't seem to have the heart to go all the way through with his schemes."

"Really? Trust me. That's a big step for 17," 18 observed.

"Yes, and another good thing is she's been much easier to deal with lately. Do you know how often she's been out past her curfew this month? Twelve times. Whenever she goes anywhere with 17, he always has her back on time."

"You make it sound like you WANT Bra and my uncle to get together," Marron noticed.

"Well, maybe not like that," Bulma said, reluctant to think of her teenage daughter dating an android who's twin sister had a daughter that was already a college graduate. "But its good that she's hanging out with someone who won't let her get away with everything, or worse yet encourage it. You wouldn't believe some of the jerks she's gone out with."

"Oh, believe me, I can believe it," 18 said, looking at her daughter out of the corner of her eye, Marron grinning sheepishly.

"And at least 17's a nice boy," Bulma said. "He's not nearly as… volatile… as my husband can be. He has actually done some very sweet things. Just yesterday, Bra was going on about the new pair of shoes he bought for her."

"A pair of shoes?" 18 said, surprised at her brother's apparent generosity. An amused (or malevolent) smirk appeared on her face. "Giving gifts already? Awww… sounds like my brother's in lo…

She was interrupted by a knock on the door, wondering who it could be. It was raining, and she hadn't heard another car pull up, so whoever it was had either walked or flown through the rain. When she opened the door, she had to look up to see the face of her newest visitor, which was partially obscured by a dark hooded cloak that brushed the ground and completely wrapped around the visitor's shoulders.

She was able to see the green chin of the visitor's face, and the tips of his antennae that stuck out from beneath the hood, so her guest was obviously a Namek. "Yes? can I help you?" she asked politely.

"Sorry to drop by unannounced," the Namek answered. "But I was looking for Bulma and heard she was at a coffee party."

18 could immediately recognize the voice, but was thrown by the almost exuberantly hopeful way he said the word 'coffee'. She invited him inside, and he glided past her towards one of the couches, his cloak pooling beneath him as he sat.

Dende unclipped and removed the cloak, setting it beside him before greeting the other four ladies with a small smile.

"You said you wanted to see me?" Bulma asked.

"Actually, what I wish to speak of concerns you and 18, so this is most fortunate to catch you both together."

"If this is a private matter, we can leave," Videl said setting her cup down on the table.

"No no, that's alright," Dende said. "It isn't anything secret. Well, except to a few people not present at the moment."

"Alright," 18 said. "Can I offer you some coffee?"

A giant mug appeared in Dende's hands so fast it seemed to have been summoned through instant transmission. With a grin that would have looked at home on the face of one of the Son men at a buffet, he said "Yes, please!"

Eyeing the '1 Earth Guardian' logo with curiosity, 18 went into the kitchen to fill it, hoping she wouldn't need to brew an entirely new pot to do so. As she did, Dende grabbed a muffin, which he munched on slowly and calmly as he waited for his 'precious' to be returned to him.

"So," Bulma started. "What is it you wanted to speak to me about."

"A little plan I cooked up," he said after swallowing a bit of blueberry. "But we should wait until 18 gets back with…AH!"

Taking the mug as it was handed to him, Dende thanked his hostess. 18 sat down next to her daughter and said, "So what is it you wanted… to…"

She and the others could only watch with their mouths agape as the Namek proceeded to down the entire contents of the mug. Dende did not stop to take a breath, as he took gulp after loud gulp until the half-gallon mug had been completely drained in only a few moments and then...

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" came the ecstatic whoop of the Earth Guardian. "That hits the spot!"

"Now," he said calmly after setting his mug down on the table, "back to the matter at hand. I wanted to talk to you about your daughter, Bulma. And about your brother, 18."

It took both women a moment to realize they had even been spoken to, so shocked were they by the Earth Guardian's earlier display. 18 was the first to recover, though even as an android she had been stunned by the sight Dende had treated them to. "Wait. What's going to happen to my brother? Does it have something to do with Bra?"

"What did you mean by a plan? What does this have to do with my daughter?" Bulma asked, starting to sound a little worried.

"Calm down, its nothing serious," Dende said to assuage their fears. Both 18 and Bulma seemed to calm considerably.

"I'm just going to dish out a little bit of karma for both of them." Dende concluded.

"NO!" both women shouted.

"You can't! 17's done his best to reform himself. He doesn't deserve it!" 18 argued in he brother's defense.

"Please! I know Bra can be a handful, but she's a good girl. Really! Just give her another chance," Bulma pleaded.

Dende sweatdropped, as both women appealed their family members' cases, surprised in how little faith both seemed to have in their relatives' destiny. "No! I didn't mean karma like that! I just want to…"

He proceeded to explain his plan to everyone in the room. His words were met with stares of disbelief, and with many questions. Some of the questions related to how he planned to accomplish what he had set before them, others were about the unpredictable nature of his two targets.

More than a few questions were directed at the debatable sanity of the Namek.

He tried to answer all the questions as best he could. It took a while, but he eventually convinced them to join with him in his scheme. Even Bulma had to agree that what Dende proposed had merit, even if she was a little reluctant to meddle with her daughter's personal life in this way. "So we're all in agreement?"

The women all nodded.

"Good," Dende said, suppressing the urge to giggle maniacally. "Then _Operation: Cupid's Cannon_ is a go."

(Author's Note: I could just leave the scene here, but why do that when we can have a little fun with another member of 18's houshold…)

The kitchen door suddenly swung open, and out stepped a grinning Krillin. Completely oblivious to the newest visitor, he carried in a huge serving tray and called out, "Okay! Who wants freshly baked cookies?"

He stopped as his eyes met those of the Guardian of the Earth. Both figures blinked. Dende looked down at the frilly pink apron Krillin was wearing. They blinked again.

Dende fell backwards with laughter, pointing at Krillin's attire, while the Z warrior blushed a deep crimson and retreated back to the safety of his kitchen.

-

"Ok android, lets get a few things straight…"

"Oh darn, is my punishment over already?" 17 remarked sarcastically. He had enjoyed the silence while he could. Bra was surprisingly good at keeping her mouth shut. He would have to make sure to get her mad at him more often. But, for now, her mouth was open and functioning at full volume once again. "…and I was just getting used to the silence…"

Ignoring him, Bra continued. "There are a few rules you need to remember. First, you are not to speak to me unless I speak to you first…"

17 took a mental note of the first rule so he could be sure to ignore it later.

"Second, no leering at me in class, at lunch, or during gym. Keep your perverted eyes to yourself."

17 snorted in contempt at her vanity, while the Saiyan Princess continued to rattle off rules.

"Third, no talking to my friends at any time. Fourth, no hanging around me like a lovesick puppy. Fifth, none of that brooding loner crap you try to do. Don't wear the same colors as me. Don't event think about watching me at cheerleading practice. No, you can not carry my books for me. No drooling over the other girls at school. No drooling over the guys at school. Don't act like a snob. Don't do anything disgusting. You cannot sit with me at the popular table. No sitting at the geek table either. Don't talk to anyone that might have it out for me. That means no talking to the Chess Club, the Drama Society, the Chorus, the League of Future Homemakers…

"Yeah, let me file all that under 'Things I don't care about'," 17 said, cutting Bra off.

"Look," The Princess said, jumping in front of him, "these things might not seem important to you, but to a person like me…

"Shallow, vain, neurotic, narcissistic, irritating…" 17 muttered under his breath.

"…they are absolutely critical!" Bra concluded.

"Fine!" 17 said, willing to do anything if it would get her to shut up. "Is that all?"

"Not quite," Bra said, reaching into her backpack and pulling out a list. Not really a list, but more of a scroll, with letters penned in bright red ink.

Ink? List? Hell no. More like a contract with the devil herself, penned in the blood of her victims, her "i"s dotted in little still-beating hearts.

"Now, no threatening blasting or killing the teachers. No talking to the football team. No trying to kill the football team. No trying out for the football team. No trying to DATE anyone on the football team."

"What about your friends on the cheerleading squad?"

"EW! NO!" Bra shouted. She then mumbled to herself "…should've known he'd be one of those guys with the cheerleader fetish."

"No, I do not have a fetish." 17 protested. "But most cheerleaders are cute…" he glanced at Bra out of the corner of his eye "MOST of them…"

Bra growled, but continued to read off her list. "No flying to school. No driving that run-down jeep of yours. If we have to drive, we'll use my car… or borrow Trunksie's. No Blowing up the pool. No blowing up the boys swim team. No DATING the boys' swim team."

17 gave her a weird look. "Why do you keep questioning my sexuality?"

Bra smirked "Just an impression you give off."

"Riiiight… And what's with all the rules, anyway?" 17 asked with a grin.

"Just trying to keep your antisocial tendencies in check"

"Sure. More like trying to keep me all to yourself" 17 said with a grin.

A disgusted yell issued from the Saiyan Princess, as she crumpled up the rest of her list. 17 just grinned, at least until Bra stuffed the list down his shirt and set it on fire.

17 yelped as he slapped at his smoking shirt, finally managing to put out the flames. His skin was virtually invulnerable, but he was already very protective of his shirts, which still bore the logo of the Red Ribbon army. And this shirt was even more expensive, having been custom-embroidered with the Orange Star High School logo.

Having subdued the flames, he glared at the Saiyan Princess, who had continued walking past him. A smirk crossed his face as he shouted, "If you wanted to see me shirtless, all you had to do was ask! No need to wreck a perfectly good shirt!"

"EWWW! As if!"

-

Pan was not in the best of moods as she walked to school. She was not the biggest fan of school in the first place. It wasn't that she was a bad student. She did well in all her classes. It's just that she would rather spend her time training rather than studying. Every time she voiced this fact, her mother would glare at her father. But on top of that was the fact that she had been grounded.

Literally.

For the next month, Pan was not allowed to fly anywhere unless her parents were with her or if it was an absolute emergency. All because some newbie pilot panicked when he saw her and lost control of his airplane. Its not like it was her fault the guy had never seen a flying girl before, and she did help the guy haul his plane out of the bay.

Of course her parents did not take the situation so lightly, leaving her to walk the whole way to school. Its not like it was such a bad thing, but she was used to flying most of the way and just walking the last block or so. But walking to school was one of those things that marked her as a freshman. Only a few upperclassmen she knew walked to school, the rest having cars, even if they served more as a status symbol than anything else.

One of the students in question was Grandpa Goku's student, Uub, who was attending classes at Orange Star High School while he was training with her grandfather. He did it because it was good exercise, and he more or less ran to school.

The only other upperclassman she knew that walked to school was…

"Ewww! As if!" came a disgusted cry from around the corner.

Pan cringed at the voice, and turned her attention toward the sound of the person in question. She saw Bra Briefs up ahead, just turning the corner, and Pan slowed down so they wouldn't have to walk together. Bra was one of those stuents who didn't drive to school only because she didn't dare risk her precious car's paint job to the idiots in the school parking lot. Like anyone woulddare toanger the daughter of the 'Prince of all Saiyans'.

It wasn't that she disliked the so-called 'Saiyan Princess', but she and Bra didn't exactly see eye-to-eye on a number of subjects, and they just seemed to rub each other the wrong way. Their families (or at least hers) always thought they should get along well, but boy were they wrong.

Not wanting to have to deal with Bra Briefs attitude, especially when she really had the urge to blast something, Pan just had to wait…

Hold on just a second, who was that with her?

Pan was fairly certain she had never seen the boy walking with Bra before, though for some reason she felt she should know who he was. Curiosity getting the better of her, Pan jogged ahead to catch up with Bra and her friend.

"Hey!" she called, getting Bra's attention.

Bra rolled her eyes and muttered, "Freshmen…" causing 17 to raise an eyebrow. Bra then put on her best friendly smile and turned to greet Pan.

"Hi Pan. How are you?" she said. She sounded friendly enough, but 17 could almost sense the false sincerity dripping from her words.

"Good," Pan replied, either not noticing or ignoring the artificiality of Bra's friendliness. "Who's your friend?"

"Him?" Bra said, pointing at 17. "Oh, he's just…"

"My name's Juunanagou Gero," 17 said, giving a polite bow and a smile to Pan, "and may I ask your name Miss?"

"Pan Son," she replied, with a smile that seemed far too cheery in Bra's opinion. "Gero… You wouldn't be related to Doctor Gero, would you?"

"Distantly related, if anything," 17 said with a note of disgust. "He took care of me and my sister for a while. I wasn't upset when he was gone."

"Oh…" Pan said, sorry to have hit upon what could only be a touchy subject.

"And to know about the dear Doctor," 17 started in a more upbeat tone, "You would have to be related to Goku."

"Yup!" Pan said, her eyes brightening. She had been certain she had killed the conversation, but was glad for the chance to turn things around. "He's my grandpa. You know him?"

17 nodded and smiled, "Tried to kill him once."

Bra could only stifle a laugh at the shocked look on Pan's face. Up till then she had been glaring and making muted gagging noises as Pan and 17 kept making OBVIOUS attempts at hitting on one another. Not that she cared, but Pan was obviously distracting 17 from his bodyguard duties.

"But then again, who HASN'T tried to kill Goku once or twice. Its not like anyone ever succeeds." He turned to the Saiyan Princess and smirked. "Just ask Bra's dad."

Bra's eye started to twitch, and a barely-visible vein on her forehead began to throb. The shocked look on Pan's face disappeared as she began to giggle. Bra shot a glare at her that she didn't seem to notice.

"Believe me, I have NO intention of going up against your Grandfather," 17 said. "Having one full-blooded Saiyan out for my hide is bad enough."

_Make that one and a half_, Bra thought as Pan laughed again.

"Well, Grandpa never was one to hold a grudge…"

"Ahem. Anyways…" Bra said interrupting. "Shouldn't you take off that bandana, Pan. Wearing it IS against school dress code."

"And what about what YOUR clothing?" Pan countered, "…or lack thereof? Isn't there something in the dress code about that?"

Bra looked at the outfit she had chosen for the day. "I'll have you know that what I'm wearing is within the bounds of school dress policy."

"Barely," Pan muttered.

"Wait." 17 said. "What's this about your bandana?"

"Oh, some stupid rule the school came up with to discourage the displaying of 'gang colors'," Pan said, the subject obviously a sore one for her.

"Well, you are going to ORANGE Star High," 17 thought aloud. "Couldn't you say you were wearing it out of school spirit?"

"No," Pan said bitterly. "That would be discriminating against the REAL gang members."

Bra smirked evilly. She never did like that bandana pan wore, as she considered it to be a major fashion DON'T.

"Well, guess I'll have to take mine off as well," 17 said as he began untying the bandana from around his neck. He then folded it up and stuck it in his pocket.

He rubbed his bare neck for a moment, then shuddered. "Its weird."

"What?" Bra asked.

"I feel naked now," he whispered.

"EWW! Put it back on!" Bra said as she tried to claw the disturbing words out of her brain.

Pan laughed at the display Bra made, and, feeling a little less self-conscious about it, took off her own bandana.

"I guess it's really not so bad," she said.

"Yeah," 17 said. Pan soon noticed that he was looking at the back of her head

"Hmm? What is it?" Pan asked, wondering briefly if she had a bug in her hair.

"Oh, its nothing. It's just that your hair is really pretty," 17 said. "You should let people see it more often."

With that he walked on ahead, leaving Pan with a growing blush in her cheeks.

-

School was just as he remembered it, at least the little he could remember of it. You had your hyperactive energetic ones, there were the resentful bullies, the mindless drones, the boring geeks….

And then there were the students.

Right now 17 was stuck listening to one of the boring, geeky, mindless drones, who didn't really seem to care for his chosen profession and instead seemed to have a general loathing for his students.

Not that he cared. He was just going to sit back and let the time pass. He didn't need to learn this stuff anyways. It's not like he was going to need it any time soon.

"Now, having read page 223 of your textbook, the solution to the problem on the board should be…" The Sensei stopped mid-drone and glared at the new boy at the back of his class. He had already had an aversion to the latest juvenile delinquent placed in his custody, with his torn jeans, laidback attitude and downright arrogance, but now the punk had the gall to sleep in the middle of his algebra lecture! He was just sitting there with his feet up on the desk, his book sitting like a roof over his face.

"Ahem!" the teacher coughed. "Mister Gero."

A mumbled voice came from beneath the textbook. The teacher growled.

"MISTER GERO!"

"What?" came the calm reply as 17 took the book off his face.

"Since you were paying such CLOSE attention to the text, perhaps you could answer the equation on the board?" The Sensei smirked, knowing he had his prey right where he wanted him.

17 glanced at the board for a moment before laying his head down on the desk. Once he'd gotten comfortable he stated flatly, "162.40"

The Sensei stood there with his mouth hanging open.

"That's assuming you wanted it to the hundredths place value, otherwise its just 162.4"

"Alright," the Sensei said, wondering how 17 had gotten the answer correct. It must have been a fluke. He wrote out a longer, more difficult problem. "How about this equation?"

"124.01"

The Sensei grew red. He knew this kid could not possibly have gotten that answer so fast without cheating, he just knew it. He smirked as a plot crossed his mind.

"All right, Mister Gero," the teacher said as he took up his chalk and placed in incredibly complex series of equations on the board, only this time it wasn't one of the problems from his teacher's edition book. "Since you seem to have the lesson down so well, why don't you come up to the board and solve this. And be sure to show all your work so your fellow students can follow along."

17 rolled his eyes and walked up to the board, grabbing the chalk that was handed to him.

Bra glared at 17. He was doing this on purpose, just to embarrass her. There could be no other explanation. He was going to go up there and make a fool of himself and everyone would know he came to school with her and her social standing at school would be ruined.

17 looked at the numbers for only a few moments, before attacking the board with the piece of chalk. It only took him a few seconds and… "There. That all you wanted?"

The Sensei jerked his head towards the board. The smug look instantly dropped from his face. He had expected it to take several minutes for the equation to be solved, if it was solved at all. Even HE didn't know what the answer was yet, and looking at the board, he knew it would take him a while to figure it out. Grumbling as his students began to snigger at him, he sat down at his desk, took out his calculator, and began working out the problem.

Among the giggling and joking at the teacher's expense, there were whispers and muttering between the girls in the class.

"Oh my god, he's sooooooo cute."

"Look at that hair."

"What a hottie."

"Look at those intense eyes."

"He's so smart."

"He's a dead man."

The source of that last comment sat glaring at 17 from her seat. Leave it to him to get up in front of everyone and show off. It's not like it was that hard, especially with a cybernetic brain.

17 noticed Bra glaring at him, and, not being able to resist the opportunity to drive the Princess crazy, gave her a discreet wave.

Bra's eyes widened and she glanced around to check if anyone had seen it. Of course the guys were all too oblivious to notice anything so subtle, and some of the girls had assumed the wave to be meant for them.

Bra turned back to 17, and stuck her tongue out at him.

17 just flashed a smile, causing all the girls to giggle.

Bra pulled down her eyelid and added that to the tongue.

17 winked at her, and then, to top it off, blew a kiss in her direction.

Bra only barely managed to suppress a shocked noise. With an angry glower on her face, Bra showed 17 both her math and language skills, showing 17, in sign language, how to count to one.

"MISS BRIEFS!"

"eep."

-

Bra growled, grumbled and muttered various curses and death threats as she hunkered over her desk after school. Stupid 17 had landed her in detention. Lucky for him, she only got an hour of detention and she didn't have cheerleading practice today, or else he would have been a crater by now.

But when she got out and tracked him down, there was going to be hell to pay.

And that time was fast approaching. She looked up at the clock with a predatory smirk. Only thirty seconds until she was free, and then she went on a droid hunt. Bra couldn't wait to savor the torment she would unleash on Android 17.

10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Wait a minute. Where was the bell? There should have been a bell. There was always a bell at this time of the day! (ok, maybe she had stayed after school a little TOO much) Oh no! The study hall monitor didn't notice! She was too busy reading her stupid romance novel to even care! Why? WHY? Why did all the bad things have to happen to her!

Bra's incoherent whining was too high to be heard by human ears, but it was enough to set up a resonance with the glass face of the clock on the wall.

The monitor heard the glass face of the clock as it cracked, and finally looked up from her book and glanced up at the clock. "Oops. Guess I lost track of the time.

_You Think!_

"You may leave now Miss Briefs."

Bra practically jumped from her seat. She had a date with a droid, and she didn't want to keep him waiting. She cracked her knuckles as she left the room and …

grumble grumble…

But first, she had to get something to eat.

"Well, they kept you long enough."

Bra turned and faced the smarmy android, just in time to see him throw something at her. She caught it with a yelp and, when it didn't explode, looked down to see what it was.

"Thought you'd be hungry when they let you out, so I ran by Hot-Dog-on-a-Stick and got you something."

Bra was strangely touched by the fact that he cared enough to get her something to eat.

"…and I was just looking for an excuse to go by there and make fun of their uniforms again," 17 said with a malicious chuckle.

Bra ignored his last comment, and instead focused on the task at hand: consuming her meal. She'd make 17's life a living hell later.

17, meanwhile, was already working on a way to beat her to the punch.

-

"No. NO! I won't do it!" Trunks yelled. "You can't make me."

"Is that so?" 17 smirked, knowing he would get what he wanted in the end.

"Look, practical jokes are one thing, but this…" Trunks searched for the words to describe the android's intent, but could think of nothing to describe its full horror. "This THING you are planning is an abomination! It goes beyond cruel! No one deserves to be put through that!"

"Don't lecture me, kid. Even with all I've done, I still didn't deserve the karmatic hell I've been put through."

"But, this is just plain evil." Trunks shook his head. "I won't go through with this."

"You think you can back out now?" 17 said calmly. "If you ruin this, I'll make sure everyone knows who helped me get in the mansion. And who helped me rig Bra's accounts. And who painted Vegeta's gravity chamber pink."

"Wait a minute!" Trunks shouted. "We didn't do anything to my dad's gravity chamber!"

"Consider it a part of your severance package if you decide to back out of our partnership," 17 said with a smirk.

Trunks growled at the crafty android. He knew he was in a no-win situation. If he went along with it, he would be doing something very mean to someone close to him. If not… Well, his dad was likely to kill him first and then beat the answers out of him later after he got wished back to life with the dragonballs.

Trunks thought on it for a second and shrugged his shoulders in resignation. Well, better them than him….

-

For the last week, Bra had spent nearly all her time preparing for Saturday morning. To say she had been shocked at what her brother had told her was an understatement.

(Then)

"Hey, Bra?"

"What do you want?" she said in her annoyed tone.

Trunks growled at her attitude. "Look, As much as I hate to do this, you're the only one left that I can ask on such short notice."

"Oh god. What did you do now?" Bra said accusatorily, as if Trunks had blown up their dad's gravity chamber (again…).

"Nothing!" He shouted, suddenly feeling a headache coming on. "Goten just called and asked me if I knew anyone he could go to this dance thing of his with him."

"Goten?" Bra murmured.

"Yeah. Sounds like everyone he called was out of town or busy."

"Dancing with Goten?"

"Yeah, and since you were the only one I could think of on such short notice, he was wondering if you were busy on Saturday, and if you weren't would you like to go out with him."

Bra just stood there for a second with a shocked look on her face, followed by disbelief, then suspicion, then a proud smile, and just as Trunks was about to ask what her answer was, she tackled him with a hug only a Saiyan could survive before skipping off to call Goten herself.

(Now)

Bra was thrilled, to say the least. She had always liked her brother's best friend, though it had been little more that a schoolgirl crush. As she had grown older she had started to see Goten as more of a geek. A muscular Saiyan geek, but a geek nonetheless. Still, there was no harm in going out dancing with him…

At least not while Daddy was in another timeline…

She went to her wardrobe, searching through the near endless selection of clothes she had available. Not that she really needed to. She already knew exactly what dress, what boots, and what makeup she wanted for tomorrow. The dress was one of her more dazzling numbers, not as daring as some of the clothes she wore to clubs, but stunning nonetheless. She really didn't want anything too risqué.

After all, this was Goten she was going out with. The boy was so reserved, he'd probably have a coronary by just seeing her navel.

After choosing her clothes and grabbing her pajamas, Bra headed to the bathroom and the shower. Humming happily, she went through a complete beauty regiment, exfoliating and cleansing and moisturizing until her skin was absolutely flawless (not that it EVER had any flaws) and giving her hair the deluxe treatment. She shampooed with three different, specially balance shampoos, all formulated to bring out the natural brilliance of her lustrous, silky cerulean hair.

She then reached for the conditioner, flipping the cap open and inhaling the powerful scent of lavender. Squirting a little in her hand, she massaged it into her scalp and hair, being certain she missed not one strand. She then rinsed out her hair and reapplied the conditioner. She left the conditioner in this time, combing it into her hair, even going so far to condition her eyebrows, before putting on her pajamas.

So, with the scent of lavender lulling her senses, Bra lay down and drifted off into a peaceful sleep, bishonen-filled dreams dancing in her head.

-

Bra's alarm clock kicked on promptly at eight the next morning, the radio playing one of the local stations, a popular love ballad by "The Teenage Wolves" wafting through the air. Bra rolled over as lead singer Yamato Ishida crooned to her through the speaker. She sighed, half-asleep, the sounds of reality blending with her dreams. "Heehee…" she giggled, "Matt…you know I can't….yaaaaawn…. sleep when you serenade me…."

She snuggled closer to her 'dream-boy', whom she, and only she, got to call by his cutesy Americanized name. Her ear came to rest near the speaker as she snuggled her cheek against one of the pillows resting against the nightstand. She sighed contentedly as Yamato's song came to an end and he whispered the final loving words to her.

"AND THAT WAS 'YAMATO AND THE TEENAGE WOLVES' SINGING THEIR NUMBER ONE HIT 'IN MY ARMS TONIGHT'! I'M MR. WONEDE…"

"AAAAAHHHH!" BLAM!

Bra's Alarm clock quickly became a charred blast mark on the opposite wall. The suddenly wide-awake Saiyan Princess glaring at the now empty nightstand. She took a couple of ragged breaths, making a mental note to hunt down and kill that obnoxious DJ, and keep blasting his replacements until the station finally hired a young hot guy with a sexy voice that she could actually stand waking up to in the morning.

But first, breakfast.

Not bothering to change out of her pajamas, or even look in a mirror to straighten out her hair, Bra wandered downstairs and into the kitchen. After all, it was just her family that would see her. She'd worry about how she looked after she got some food in her grumbling stomach.

She walked past her mother, who was reading the paper, and Trunks, who was stuffing his face with marshmallow cereal while he read the comics. Despite being almost thirty, he never seemed to want to grow up. Both the other present members of the household were already fully dressed, both touring the newest of Capsule Corp.'s high-energy research facilities in the mountains near the North Capital later that afternoon.

Bra, having better manners than her brother, took a glass from the cupboard before grabbing the juice out of fridge. She checked the carton and, seeing that it was full (a good sign her brother hadn't already drank straight from it), poured herself a glass.

"Bra?" her mother said. "While you're up would you get me another…"

Bulma's voice trailed off and her coffee mug fell out of her hand and shattered against the ground with a loud crash. Bra jerked her head towards the sound, and saw her mother staring at her, her mouth agape and her eyes wide with shock.

"What?" Bra asked. "What is it?"

Bulma pointed a shaking hand, and Bra looked back over her shoulder. "What? I don't see what you're looking at!"

Bulma, still staring, reached over and tugged on Trunks' sleeve, causing him to put the comics down. "What is…Whoah!"

Bra stared at the two of them, getting annoyed as Trunks started to snigger. "What the Hell is so funny!" Bra shouted.

"Hehe… Wait 'til dad gets home," Trunks giggled. "He'll be so proud that his little girl has finally gone Super Saiyan."

"WHAT?" Bra screamed as she ran for the nearest mirror, her mother finally cracking and laughing at Trunks' last remark.

Bra's scream echoed throughout the house when she finally found a mirror. "My hair… What happened to my pretty hair!"

She was blonde… golden, flaxen, Goldilocks-in-Malibu blonde! With the way her hair was sticking out right now, she did look like a Super Saiyan, BUT THAT WAS BESIDE THE POINT! She was BLONDE! Every strand, every root, every perfectly smooth fiber shined with a golden gleam! Even her eyebrows! How could this have possibly happened?

No, that didn't matter right now. This was an emergency. She had to get to a salon immediately. Bra rushed back upstairs to her room. She just needed to throw on a dress, some shoes, maybe a trench coat, a hat, sunglasses, and maybe see if mom had invented a cloaking device she could borrow…

Blink.

…

Blink.

"WHERE THE HELL IS MY WARDROBE!"

-

Meanwhile, a certain android was busy putting a certain sacrificial shrine to shopping into safe storage.

"Dammit… Fit, damn you. FIT!" 17 shouted, as he stomped up and down on the wardrobe. He had tried everything he could, but the wardrobe was just too big to shove into the dumpster out behind the Capsule Corp. laboratory. This had been his last resort, after discovering it would not fit in the storage garage he had planned to use.

It wasn't bad enough that the damn thing weighed a ton, but he and Trunks had actually been forced to remove the windows in Bra's room while she slept to get it out of the house. 17 was about to give in and just blast the thing into oblivion, though that would mean Bra would have to replace every article of clothing, which would mean more shopping.

"Well, I can always find a nice cave to ditch it in…" 17 said scratching his head.

"Excuse me, what are you doing?"

_NO! WITNESSES! Okay, don't panic. Just turn around calmly and casually, and blast them. No evidence, no witnesses, no mess (aside from some scattered ash) and no problems. _Smiling, 17 turned and prepared to vaporize his troubles away.

_Goku's wife!__ BIG PROBLEM!_

"Umm… Well, you see…" 17 said as he tried to think up a lie, and think it up quick. "There's… a light… Yeah, a light! …in this wardrobe that won't light on one side. So I'm, uhhh…" Damn. That still didn't give him an excuse to ditch it in the garbage.

"Right. Like I'm supposed to believe that," Chi-Chi said as Videl came around the corner. Damn. Now 17 had TWO of the most dangerous women in the world as witnesses to his crime.

"Wait a minute… I know who you are!" Chi-Chi exclaimed as her eyes widened. "You're Android 17!"

17 felt as though he was actually sweating. He was certain Chi-Chi remembered him from the time he had been hunting down her husband along with 18 and 16.

Chi-Chi broke into friendly smile. "So, I take it being Bra's bodyguard isn't as stress-free as you thought it would be."

"Huh?" 17 said in shock.

"Oh, Bulma told us all about it," she answered. "Getting back at her for something she did I take it?"

"Uh, yeah..." 17 said, still confused.

"Hmph. Well, it's not like she doesn't need to be taken down a few pegs," Videl said with a smirk.

"Oh, Videl. You know she's not a bad girl" Chi-Chi said in Bra's defense.

They all jumped as a horrified shriek rang out from the Briefs family home.

"Uh oh. Guess it's too late to pretend you never snuck it out of the mansion," Chi-Chi said. "Look, if you need a place to hide this for a while, I know a good spot."

"Really?" 17 said, still in shock over the whole thing. "That would be great."

"Videl?" Chi-Chi said turning to her daughter in law. "Do you think you could show 17 the way to Kami's lookout? I'm sure Dende will be kind enough to let us use the time chamber for a few days."

"No problem." Videl said, grinning at the chance for a little harmless fun." It should only take a half hour or so. I'll meet you at the mall later?"

17 cringed at the mere mention of that place, but Chi-Chi nodded to Videl, who immediately floated into the air and waited for 17. After 17 had hefted and balanced the wardrobe, they both took off in the direction of Kami's lookout.

As soon as they were out of sight, Chi-Chi pulled a cell phone from her purse and hit the speed dial. "Yes, this is agent 'Milk'. Phase One is underway. Agent 'Triple-6' is on the way with the package."

"Excellent, agent 'Milk'," the voice on the other end said. "We will move on to Phase Two shortly. Until then, keep up the good work. 'Yoda', out."

-

A hundred kilometers away, and several kilometers up, "Yoda" grinned as he hung up. He steepled his green fingers in front of his face.

With this phase out of the way, it would only be a matter of time before the other pieces of his plan fell into place. All it would take was a little push here or there, and the desired outcome would be inevitable. "Everything is proceeding as I have foreseen."

His maniacal laughter echoed through the halls of Kami's lookout as his intended victim approached, cargo in hand.

-

Dammit! Dammit! DAMMIT! Where the HELL did her WARDROBE go! Bra had given up on finding her wardrobe, but she at least hoped to find some clothes. ANYTHING! She kept digging through her closet, her dresser, even under her bed. There was nothing. NOTHING!

Correction: almost nothing.

There was a single outfit in the closet, but there was no way in hell she would wear it, not unless it was an absolute emergency.

The doorbell rang out, and Bra froze.

She could hear her brother's obnoxious voice from downstairs call out, "Hey, Goten!"

Oh good Dende. Not today. Why did this have to happen today?

"No, Bra's not ready yet. She's still primping her hair, I think." She could almost hear the suppressed laughter in Trunks' voice.

"Oh, dammit…" She said. Either she wore the clothes she had available, or she met Goten in her Silk Pajamas and told him the date was off.

Setting her jaw in a mask of determination, she grabbed the clothes from the closet and started to change. She was a Saiyan Princess, and a Saiyan never admitted defeat.

-

It had been about fifteen minutes since Goten had shown up and Trunks and Bulma were doing there best to make him feel at home. Well, Bulma was. Trunks… Well, Trunks was just waiting for Bra to come down and see how Goten reacted.

"I must say, Goten, you look very stylish today," Bulma commented.

Goten, however felt rather out of place in the simple gray suit he was wearing. "Yeah, I wanted to wear something else, but I wasn't sure what Bra would wear, and Mom said this wouldn't clash with…"

Goten's voice trailed off and his eyes went wide when he saw Bra step into the room. "Wow. Bra, you look…"

"Yeah… Sorry about that," she said, suddenly feeling even more self-conscious than she had. "I had problems with my closet, and something weird happened with my hair..."

"No, you look GREAT!" he said with that typical Son grin and an enthusiasm that just couldn't be faked. "I was worried you wouldn't want to go traditional for this."

"Tradition… Huh?" Bra said, genuinely confused. The dress she was wearing was old, or at least old-fashioned; a blouse with billowing white sleeves, a dark green vest, and a matching skirt that came complete with a sewn-in red apron. It was, at least in her opinion, hideous.

"Well, that makes me feel a bit overdressed," Goten said. He immediately started unbuttoning his jacket. Bra was shocked, especially when he started taking off his pants. Oh good Dende… Goten Son was stripping in the middle of her family's living room!

Underneath he was wearing a set of dark green shorts. He took off his jacket…

_It's a bird…_

…loosened his tie and tore open the snap closures on his white shirt_…_

_It's a plane_…

…revealing what he was wearing underneath.

_It's Superdork_, Bra thought as she looked at the dark green lederhosen Goten was wearing under his suit the entire time he had waited with her mom and brother.

"Wow! We match almost perfectly!" Goten said with a wide grin. In fact, all he would have to do is go Super Saiyan and the two of them would look like a matched set.

_Oh good Dende…_ Bra thought, just now realizing that not only was Goten not put out by what she was wearing, but he seemed to think it was appropriate attire for what he had planned, _…what__ kind of dance are we going to dressed like this?_

"Ahem!"

Everyone turned their heads toward the new voice. 17 stood in the doorway, a backpack slung over one shoulder. "Well, don't you two look nice."

Bra glared at the irksome android. 17 just smiled, though the smile decreased and finally dissapeared as he turned his attention to Goten. "May I have a word with you, Mister Son?"

Goten actually looked a bit nervous as 17 led him into the next room.

"Okay, lets get a few things straight before you leave," 17 said setting his backpack down on the floor. "Bulma has put me in charge of Bra's safety, which means, by all rights, I should be tagging along with you two today. However, since I don't think Bra would appreciate my presence, I'm willing to let you two go by yourselves."

"Ok." Goten said.

"But," 17 said holding up a finger, "this means I am holding you personally responsible for her safety. I want her to come home in the same condition she left, or you'll wish you just had Vegeta to deal with."

Goten gulped. Only Vegeta himself could have exuded such an intimidating aura. But where Vegeta would project raw anger, 17 remained cold and emotionless, which was even more disturbing, if it was possible.

"You will not touch her in any inappropriate manner. 'Look but don't touch' would be better. In fact, don't even look. That is the best way to guarantee your safety." 17 turned away from Goten, but continued to speak as he dug around in his backpack. "You are to have her home before eleven. Any later, and I go Saiyan hunting. And finally…"

Goten waited for the death blow.

17 turned back with a smile and handed a small cardboard box to Goten. "…have fun, and be sure to get plenty of pictures of the two of you. I'm sure both Bra and her family would love that."

Goten looked down at the fairly state-of-the-art disposable camera 17 had handed to him, surprised by the android's generosity. _Dang_, he thought. _I didn't even know they made seventy-two shot cameras._

"Now, hurry up and get going," 17 said. "Don't want to keep the lady waiting."

Trunks, 17 and Bulma gave the couple a cheery sendoff, Trunks and 17 going a little over-the-top in the cheery department.

"I wish I could see Bra's face when they get there," 17 said as he kept waving.

"Hehe. I don't know who to feel sorry for, Bra or Goten." Trunks said through a grin.

"By the way, that was a nice touch," 17 said. "I thought putting peroxide in Bra's conditioner wasa showstopper, but finding a dress that matched Goten's lederhosen was pure genius."

"I didn't do that," Trunks said, the cheer dropping from his voice. "I thought it was you."

"But if you didn't do it, and I didn't do it, then who…" They both turned to the only other person in the room.

Bulma looked at the two of them and simply smiled. She then turned and walked back into the mansion, whistling innocently.

"Trunks," 17 said, "I think we have a problem."

-

_I must be cursed_, Bra thought. _There can be no other explanation for it._ Of course, that had to be it. Why else would she be spending the entire day in the home for infinite losers…?

…AKA, The West City 22nd Annual Polka Festival and Kielbasa cook-off.

The smell of various sausage recipes filled the air, along with the foul odor of sauerkraut.

Goten, being the quintessential Son, was hungry the moment the scent of food hit his half-Saiyan nostrils. He immediately wanted to buy sample the cuisine, and asked Bra if she had wanted to go with him and get something. Bra, not wanting to get any closer to the sauerkraut than she absolutely had to, declined.

Instead, she sat on a park bench, watching as people danced to the annoying music, the accordion playing loudly in an attempt to drown out any appeal the band might otherwise have had.

A red-haired girl sat down on the bench next to Bra, fanning herself with her hand as she tried to catch her breath. She was wearing a dress similar to the one the Saiyan Princess wore, save that its cut and color was much more flattering to the young woman's figure. The white sleeves of her blouse and the front of her apron were embroidered with small flowers, while her dress was a deep aqua that complemented the girl's eyes.

Bra looked at the girl for a minute, sure she recognized her from somewhere. "Don't I know you?"

"Huh?" The girl said, just now noticing Bra.

"Ah! I know why," Bra shouted. "You were talking to that pervert at the mall!"

"What!"

"That kid that was staring at my underwear. You were hanging out with him!" Bra said. She then got an appalled look on her face. "He's not your boyfriend, is he?"

The girl looked confused look on her face, quickly followed by comprehension, then disgust, "EWWWW! Ackk! There is no way in Hell I would go out with that baka-hentai Suzuhara!"

"Oh," Bra said. "And here I was hoping I'd get a chance to beat some sense into him and his friend."

"Oh don't worry. His new girlfriend will take care of that idiot's bad habits," The girl said, as a slim, dark-haired boy managed to pry his way free of the crowd of dancers and plop on the bench next to the red haired girl.

"Finally. What was taking you so long?" The girl said with an impatient look.

"Can't… breath… Need…break… Too much… dancing…" he managed to pant.

"Well, if you didn't want to dance, you shouldn't have come" the girl huffed.

The boy opened his mouth to defend himself, but could only wheeze and looked as though he were about to pass out. He took a few deep breaths before trying to speak again. "I wanted to dance with you, not every crazed woman in the crowd. The whole reason I took the time to find out about this festival and get my mom to drive us here was so I could spend time with you."

The girl's glare disappeared and was replaced by a small smile and a slight blush. The tenderness of the moment was quickly broken by… (if you can't guess who, then you haven't been paying attention)

"So, I take it you got dragged to this thing for a boy, too?" Bra commented, still bitter about being tricked.

"Huh?" the girl said.

"The stupid clothes, the bad food, the obnoxious music. Trust me, no boy is worth this kind of hell," Bra continued, "especially not a shrimp like this"

The red-haired girl growled, her eye twitching.

"Now. If you'll excuse me, I think I'll go see if I can find my date and see what entertainment this archaic culture has to offer. There's got to be something fun to do in this dump."

"Das…" the girl said as she stood, her fist shaking, "das…das Hexe!" (German Translation : That…that…that WITCH!)

"Asuka, calm down,"

"Did you hear what that _Hure_ said!" (Translation unavailable: Let's just say it's bad and leave it at that.)

"Asuka, she didn't mean anything by it," The boy said as he tried to restrain her.

"She insulted my cultural heritage!" the angry German girl said. "I'm supposed to let her get away with that!"

"No, but… Wait a minute! You insult MY culture all the time!"

"That's beside the point," The girl shouted, dragging herself free of the boy's grasp. But Bra had already disappeared into the crowd.

"Shinji no Baka!" she yelled."You let her get away."

"Hey, we both know you would have made mincemeat out of her," he said placing a hand on her shoulder. "Let's just forget about it and try to enjoy the rest of… hey, isn't that our English teacher?"

"Huh?" The girl looked and spotted who he was talking about. "What's Misato doing here?"

"Looks like she's heading into one of the pavilions. What does 'Bier Trinkend Wettkampf' mean?" (German Translation: Beer Drinking Contest)

A smirk appeared on the girl's face. "Oh, this I have got to see. Come on, Shinji!"

With a yelp, the boy was yanked off his feet and towed towards the pavilion.

-

Bra was getting tired of searching for Goten. She was able to narrow down the places to look by homing in on his ki signature, but her skills were not nearly polished enough to find him. Now she was just wandering the crowds in a vain attempt to find him, which she had been doing for the last half hour.

"Hey! Bra!"

The Saiyan Princess turned and saw Goten jogging towards her. Maybe her luck was improving.

"Hey, where did you go? When I got back you were gone," Goten said.

"You were gone for almost an hour. I got tired of waiting."

"Oops. I had no idea I was gone that long. I guess I got distracted by all the food."

Bra rolled her eyes. Why was she not surprised? Well, at least she had someone to help alleviate her boredom now. It was about then that she noticed a strange smell coming from Goten's shirt. "What is that smell? Did you spill sauerkraut on yourself!"

"Oh that," Goten said. "Well after all sausage I decided to get something to drink, but the only drinks I could find were from this guy selling some kind of meat on a stick."

"What is it? It smells terrible."

Well, the only things he had to drink were Mountain Dew and Crab Juice…"

"EWW!"

"I know!" Goten said. "That's why I got the Crab Juice."

Bra stared at him with a look of disbelief.

"…guess I must have spilled some when I was drinking it."

Bra rolled her eyes. "Come on. Lets go find something to do."

"Wait, there's something I want to show you," Goten said taking her hand Come on!"

They began to make their way through the crowd, but a voice called out, "Hey! Goten! Marron!"

Bra froze, a vein on her forehead twitching. _Did… someone… just… call… me… 'MARRON'! Oh HELL no!_

Goten turned, not noticing the deadly buildup of anger in Bra. "Dad? Mom? What are you doing here?"

"I just 'hic' came to try the food," Goku slurred. He looked to be more than a little drunk, a red and green band tied around his head to keep his hair out of his eyes. He looked at the young blonde girl his son was with, squinting as he tried to recognize her face. "Oops, sorry Bra. I thought you were someone else. You look different somehow… New 'hic' haircut?"

Bra ignored his comment. Goten turned and asked his mother, "What's wrong with Dad?

"Your father tried entering the drinking competition." Chi-chi explained, supporting Goku with one of his arms over her shoulders. "He lost to some woman with purple hair. He called your brother, then Gohan called Videl and I at the mall to come here. Videl is waiting at the entrance to meet your brother."

"You gonna take Dad home?"

"No, we're going to enter them in the sausage eating competition." Chi-chi said, readjusting her grip on the tipsy Saiyan. "If we're lucky, they'll stuff themselves and we won't have to cook so much for dinner tonight."

"Okay. Well, good luck." Goten said. "I want to show Bra the souvenir booth I found."

"Have 'hic' fun you two!" Goku shouted.

"So where is this booth?"

"Huh? Oh Yeah!" Goten said, having found a way to derail his train of thought in only a matter of seconds.

He grabbed her hand and flew off toward the booth (not literally flying, but moving fast enough to give the illusion of flight)

The booth was not exactly impressive. A few knickknacks, some t-shirts, some really ugly beer steins, but nothing really remarkable. "I don't get it, what's so special about this place?"

"It has these!" Goten said. Bra turned around and yelped, finding herself staring into a pair of huge eyes surrounded by a mass of feathers and a razor-sharp felt beak.

"What the hell is that!" Bra gasped.

"Isn't it great?" Goten gushed. "I've been looking everywhere for one, but never could find any. Look! Look what it does!"

He squeezed the bizarre creature's wing and set it down on the ground. It let out a shrill crow, then began strutting around in a circle, its beak wiggling as it flapped its tiny wings. Then, much to Bra's horror, it began clucking, but not any normal clucking. No, it began clucking out a tune.

Bra had to resist the urge to punt the little dancing bird. _Oh… good… Dende…,_ she thought, _Its__ that stupid chicken dance song!_ It wasn't trunks that had reprogrammed her phone, it was Goten!

A horrifying truth suddenly struck Bra with the force of a freight train. Goten Son, her brother's best friend, the boy she had a crush on since before junior high, was a Polka-loving idiot.

"Oh Cool! Look! They have them in other colors!" Goten shouted.

Bra could only scream in horror as an entire rainbow-colored flock of the clucking creatures surrounded and descended upon her in a crowd of polka horror.

-

"…and then he took me back to the center plaza and tried to dance! I swear, I thought I would be sick from all the spinning around."

The rest of the girls at the lunch table just sat there with their jaws open in amazement. "I don't believe it," one of the girls finally said.

"Believe it," Bra said. "There are even pictures to prove it." (despite her best attempts to 'dispose' of Goten's disposable camera.)

"But, I don't get it," one of the girls said. "I thought you and Juunanagou Gero…"

"Eww! No! My mom just hired him to be my bodyguard

"You go out with Goten Son this weekend, AND you have a hottie like that as your bodyguard! Bra, you have all the luck." One of the others gushed."

Bra grumbled to herself as she looked over at the android in question. She had no idea why they would think she was dating 17. He was two tables over, chattering away with Pan. It had become commonplace to see those two together lately, always talking, or joking, or… something!

17 and Pan had become best buddies almost immediately. It made sense, they were at about the same social rung as each other, and had about the same interests, namely games, fighting, games, and a lack of fashion sense. Even so, they could show a little courtesy and not be so happy about it. You would assume everyone would think those two were dating. Everywhere she turned, she saw them together, and it was driving her nuts!

Its not like she actually cared if those two hung out together, but 17 was supposed to be her bodyguard! He wasn't being paid to goof off!

Bra cringed as Pan laughed at some stupid joke 17 had made, pressing her fork into the tray until the end snapped off (which was saying something, as the fork was metal). That's it! she was just going to ignore those two from now on.

Swiping an unused fork from across the table, Bra continued her meal with a machinelike mentality. She didn't even look up as a shadow fell across her table.

"Yo. Bra"

"What," the Saiyan Princess said as she looked up with an annoyed glower at the fool who had dared interrupt her meal.

The guy's name was Vash, and he did go by the moniker "The Stampede", but he bore no resemblance the anime character of the same name. He was the starting center for the school's varsity football team, and he got the handle "Stampede" from crushing his opponents like a thundering herd. The best way to describe the guy would be to call him a mountain and to call his looks "rugged" would be like calling the ocean "damp".

Vash had a square head, both shaped and textured like a brick, with a patch of fiery red hair perched atop his skull, which was used for little more than giving him someplace to wear a hat. He was a solid mass of muscle, including the space within his skull. He was a man of few words, mostly for a distinct lack of vocabulary (think of him as a young Recoome, but with none of the charm or intelligence).

"So, you, me, Prom. Whatcha say?"

Bra looked at him, trying to determine whether or not he was joking. Turning back to her lunch with a noise of disgust, she muttered, "In your dreams…"

"Scuse me? I don't think you heard me. I said I want you to go to the prom with me."

"And I was saying that I don't really care." Bra growled as she stood up from the table. There was no way in hell she was going out with this guy, and she had three very good reasons: One, if she dated anyone from the football team, it would probably be the star quarterback, but no one less than a linebacker.

Two, she was a fan of the real "Humanoid Typhoon" and she hated the fact that this pea-brained muscle-headed mutant insisted on using the nickname "The Stampede". The very idea that he was named "Vash" was an insult to one of her favorite anime characters.

And three? The guy was an ABSOLUTE JERK!

A quality which was about to make itself apparent.

"Hey! Don't walk away when I'm talking to you!" The cranially-challenged cretin shouted, grabbing hold of Bra by the wrist.

Bra snapped her head around and glared at Vash. "Let go of my arm," she growled.

"Or what?" he said with a smirk. "You'll have your daddy come and beat me up!"

Ok, that was it. She may have been a daddy's girl, but no one dared to accuse her of it to her face. To everyone else, it looked as thought the two were locked in a staring match, each daring the other to blink. In reality they both were struggling. Bra wasn't about to let some asinine freak of a human make her lose her cool, and just glared at him while trying to force her arm free without making a big show of it.

Vash, on the other hand, wasn't about to lose to a girl. Bra may have been a half-Saiyan, and only partially trained, but she was still very strong. It was only through his abnormally dense muscle mass (which matched his abnormally dense skull) that Vash was able to hold on.

It looked as though neither would give in until…

"Excuse me, but I don't think the girl likes how you're holding on to her."

Bra actually blinked in surprise when 17 walked up and tapped Vash on the shoulder. The scene just looked wrong. She knew he was an android, she knew he was stronger than some of the greatest fighters, hell, stronger than most the great fighters in the galaxy…

But compared to the massive football player, 17 looked like a toy.

"I don't think its any of your business, buddy. So get lost!" With that he gave 17 a good shove, sending him sliding back into a table.

"Now," he said turning his attention back towards Bra, "as for you…"

He found himself staring into a pair of blue eyes, but they weren't Bra's.

"Sorry," 17 said, "but I'm making it my business."

It was impossible. No one could move that fast. Surprised by how fast the punk had moved and angry that someone dared to defy him, Vash threw a punch with his free hand. The blow landed squarely in the middle of 17's face.

17 hid a smirk as Vash yelped clutching his now injured hand with the other one.

This, of course, left Bra free to escape. She immediately took the opportunity, finding herself backed up against one of the tables. One of her hands came to rest atop one of the heavy lunch trays. Grabbing it in both hands, she turned her attention back to her bodyguard and his opponent.

She cursed as she found her path blocked by her fellow classmates, who had quickly gathered around the scene chanting, "FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!"

"Get out of my way you idiots!" she shouted, trying to push her way through. But short of actually hitting someone, there was no way she was going to get a clear path to the fight. She could only sit back and watch.

17 just stood there, his hands in his pockets, while Vash shook his bruised hand. "Well? Are you done babying yourself yet?"

The lineman snapped, lunging at 17. With a roar he swung his meaty fist at the android. 17 simply sidestepped the attack. "You know, a lot of people have tried fighting me before…"

The meathead tried to backhand 17, which 17 merely backed away from, allowing the blow to pass by with only a light breeze brushing his black hair. "…better men than you…"

Vash swung at 17's head. 17 just ducked.

"…and…"

With an aggravated yell, Vash tried punching 17 in the gut. This time the blow connected, 17's abdomen caving in noticeably, and Vash grinned in triumph. He leaned closer so he could hear the agonized gasp of his victim as he tried to breathe.

"…even the worst among them would have been more worthy to bear the name of the 'Humanoid Typhoon' than you are," 17 whispered, so that only Vash could hear. The lineman's eyes widened with shock as 17 smirked then widened again as 17's fist connected with his gut.

17 then grabbed the little patch of hair on the top of the football player's head, throwing the lineman's head up and then sweeping his legs out from under him so that he landed flat on his back.

Vash gasped for breath as he lay on his back, stars dancing across his vision. As his vision cleared, a figure standing over him came into focus, his black hair silhouetted against the skylight.

"Get up." 17 said. Vash coughed and tried to sit. 17 rolled his eyes and offered his hand to help him up.

Vash grinned inwardly. The punk may have been fast, but no one in the school was as strong as he was, except those Saiyan half-breeds. He took 17's hand and began to squeeze in an attempt to crush it into a bloody pulp.

17 smirked darkly, and squeezed right back until he saw the shock on Vash's face and heard a few bones pop out of place. "You're a disgrace to the name 'Vash the Stampede'," 17 said with a note of smug satisfaction, "Goodbye!"

And with that he sent the terrified lineman screaming through the cafeteria's skylight.

There was a moment of horrified silence as Vash's cries faded. Then the volume increased as he began to descend. There was a loud thump as he landed on the roof, then the football player let out a miniscule "ow…"

A cheer went up through the cafeteria. Students crowded around 17 and a couple tried to hoist him up on their shoulders (much to the detriment of their backs).

"That's enough!" A commanding woman's voice called out, creating instant silence in the cafeteria. A small, unimposing old woman made her way through the sea of students. She marched right up to 17, who was the obvious center of the commotion.

"What is the problem here?" she demanded.all

"It wasn't his fault, Principal Genkai." One student yelled. "Vash grabbed Bra Briefs and Juunanagou tried to help."

"Yeah," another said. "Vash started it."

"I don't care, who started it," The principal said, her hands clasped behind her back. "fighting on school grounds will not be tolerated."

"You," she said, pointing at 17. "My office. Now."

Bra shuddered. She always likened Principal Genkai to her father's stories of Frieza. Even Genkai's voice was exactly what she imagined Frieza sounded.

The principal looked up at the broken skylight. "I'll deal with our other troublemaker after they peel him off the roof."

After they were gone, one of her friends leaned over to whisper in Bra's ear. "That's some bodyguard you have."

"Yeah…"

-

17 was surprised by the principal's office. He had suspected the old woman would be one of those types to have her office decorated with flowers, or ceramic cats, or maybe pictures of her grandchildren. The walls were lined with frames, but inside the frames were newspaper clippings. There was a shelf full of trophies, medals, even what looked like a wrestling belt.

"Sit down. Mister Gero."

17 sat and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"So, what happened?"

"He hit me, so I hit him back." 17 said. With a shrug. "He just picked a fight he couldn't win."

The woman sighed. "I guess I should be used to dealing with boy's like you by now. Always causing so much trouble."

"You know nothing about me." 17 snorted.

"Oh really?" the woman said. "I know exactly what you are."

_If you knew what I was_, 17 thought, _you'd probably faint._

"Let me guess. You're the tough guy in your family. Bad to the bone. Rotten to the core." She sat back in her seat. "But when it comes down to it, you can't help but be a hero. It goes against everything you stand for, but you can't help yourself,"

17 stared at her. "Riiiiiiiiiiiiight."

The woman just shook her head. "There's no use talking to dimwits like you."

She stood up and turned away. 17 looked around at the news clippings on the wall.

"You'll serve one hour of detention this after school this afternoon."

17 looked back at her. "Why so lenient? I thought I was trouble."

"Yes, but like the others said, Vash started it." She looked at him. "Personally, I always disliked the boy. You can go."

"Just one question." 17 said.

"Yes?"

"The person in that photo," he said, pointing to a photo of a small figure, a cloth wrapped around the face of the figure. One eye of the person was barely visible from beneath the shadows of the mask. Another man held the figure's hand aloft, and there looked to be a cheering crowd in the background.

"Oh that," she said. "That was me a long time ago. That was the time I won the world martial arts tournament."

"What?" 17 said, shocked.

"Yes. It was an uphill battle, but I beat out a lot of famous fighters. Even Hercule Satan and Jackie Chun." She chuckled. "Of course, I surprised Chun with my Spirit Shotgun technique, and Hercule was a joke back then."

_He's still a joke_, 17 thought. _Just no one knows it._

"Now, get back to class, or I'll tack on another hour to your detention."

"Yes ma'am." 17 said, having a good deal more respect for the woman.

-

After his detention, 17 was less than surprised to find Bra had already left. He was about to head back to Capsule Corp., when a text message hit his cell phone. They must have had reception blockers in the school.

The message simply said, "I know you have no fashion taste, so I took the liberty of redecorating your cabin while you were in detention. Consider it a thank you for all you've done."

Panicked, 17 flew straight to his cabin. He had no idea how bra had found where he lived, but he had to know what kind of damage had been done. He landed on the porch, threw open the door, and when he looked inside, he saw red.

…and pink.

…and purple.

…and lace, and ribbons.

His phone rang, and he answered it with automated motion. "Hello."

"17? Great news. Dende found my wardrobe. It was in the time chamber the whole time."

"That's great," 17 said flatly.

"So, as soon as you get back, we need to go shopping. I need to refill it."

"What?" 17 said, panic creeping into his voice. "But you have your wardrobe back. Why do you need new clothes?"

"Because they were all outdated."

"But they were only gone THREE DAYS!"

"But in the time chamber, that was three YEARS! So I had them thrown out and I'm getting an all new wardrobe."

17 could only let out a horrified whine.

"So, get back as soon as you can, kay?" Bra then hung up.

17's hand twitched as he moved his finger over the 'end call' button. He hit it, basically crushing button under his thumb, then finishing the job and crushing the rest of the phone. His face was set in a mask of absolute rage. This time Bra had gone too far. This time it was all-out war.


End file.
